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THE   MONEY    MOON 


1 


*.'.^iK 


'I  only  play  when  I  feel  like  it,— to  please  my- 
self.—and  Aunt  Priscilla."  (page  190) 


THE  MONEY  MOON 


A  ROMANCE 


BY 


JEFFERY  FARNOL 

Author  of 
"The  Broad  Highway,"  etc. 


FRONTISPIECE 
BY  A.   I.   KELLER 


NEW  YORK 
DODD,  MEAD  AND  COMPANY 

1912 


COPTRIGHT,  1911 

Bt  dodd,  mead  and  company 

Published.  October,  1911 


To 
"JENNIFER" 

The  One  and  Only 

Whose  unswerving  Faith  was  an  Inspiratio, 

Whose  Generosity  is  a  bye-word ; 

this  book  is  dedicated 

as  a  mark  of 

Gratitude  and  Affection 

JefiFery  Farnol  Feb.  10,  1910 


CONTENTS 

Chapter  Page 

I    Which,  being  the  First,  is.  Vert  Prop- 
erly, THE  Shortest  Chapter  in  the 

Book 1 

II    How  George  Bellew  Sought  Counsel 

OF  His  Valet 3 

III    Which  Concerns  Itself  with  a  Hay- 
cart,  AND  A  Belligerent  Waggoner  .       10 
rV    How  Small  Forges  in  Looking  for  a 
Fortune    for    Another,    Found    an 
Uncle  for  Himself  Instead  ....       21 
V    How  Bellew  Came  to  Arcadia  ....       29 
VI    Of  the  Sad  Condition  of  the  Haunting 

Spectre  of  the  Might  Have  Been    .       42 
VII    Which  Concerns  Itself  Among  Other 

Matters,  with  "  The  Old  Ad.\m  "     .       49 
VIII    Which    Tells    of    Miss   Priscilla,   of 
Peaches,  and  of  Sergeant  Appleby 

LATE  OF  THE   19tH  HuSSARS 65 

IX     In  WHICH  MAY  BE  FoUND  SoME   DESCRIP- 
TION OF  Arcadia,  and  Gooseberries  .       78 
X    How  Bellew  and  Adam  Entered  into 

a  Solemn  League  and  Covenant  .    .       01 


viii  CONTENTS 

Chapter  Page 

XI    Of  the  "  Man  with  the  Tiger  Mark  "     101 
XII    In    which    may    be    Found    a    Full, 
True,  and  Particular  Account  of 
THE  Sale 118 

XIII  How  Anthea  Came  Home 142 

XIV  Which,  among  Other  Things,  Has  to 

Do  with  Shrimps,  Muffins,  and  Tin 

Whistles 151 

XV    In  which  Adam  Explains 175 

XVI    In  which  Adam  Proposes  a  Game  .    .  183 

XVII    How  Bellew  Began  the  Game  .    .    .  188 
XVIII    How  the  Sergeant  Went  upon  His 

Guard 199 

XIX  In  which  Porges  Big,  and  Porges 
Small  Discuss  the  Subject  of  Mat- 
rimony     206 

XX    Which  Relates  a  Most  Extraordi- 
nary Conversation 220 

XXI  Of  Shoes,  and  Ships,  and  Sealing 
Wax,  and  the  Third  Finger  of  the 
Left  Hand 224 

XXII    Coming  Events  Cast  Their  Shadows 

Before 236 

XXIII  How  Small  Porges,  in  His  Hour  of 

Need,  was  Deserted  by  His  Uncle     242 

XXIV  In  which  Shall  be  Found  Mention  of 

A  Certain  Black  Bag 246 


CONTENTS  ix 

Chapter  Page 

XXV    The  Conspirators 257 

XXVI    How  THE  Money  Moon  Rose   .    .    .     262 
XXVII    In  which  is  Verified  the  Adage  of 

THE  Cup  and  the  Lip 273 

XXVIII    Which   Tells   How   Bellew    Left 

Dapplemere  in  THE  Dawn     .    .    .     280 
XXEX    Of  the  Moon's  Message  to  Small 

PORGES,  AND   HoW   He   ToLD    IT   TO 

Bellew  —  m  a  Whisper     ....     285 
XXX    How  Anthea  Gave  Her  Promise     .     291 
XXXI    Which,  being  the    Last,    is,  Vert 
Properly,  the    Longest,  in    the 
Book 301 


I 


THE   MONEY    MOON 


CHAPTER   I 

Which,  being  the  first,  is,  very  properly,  the 
shortest  chapter  in  the  book 

When  Sylvia  Marclimont  went  to  Europe, 
George  Bellew  being,  at  the  same  time,  desir- 
ous of  testing  bis  newest  acquired  yacbt,  fol- 
lowed her,  and  mutua]  friends  in  New  York, 
Newport,  and  elsewbere,  confidently  awaited 
news  of  their  engagement.  Grei:t,  therefore, 
was  their  surprise  when  they  learnt  of  her 
approaching  marriage  to  the  Duke  of  Ryde. 

Bollew,  being  ./oung  and  rich,  had  many 
friends,  very  naturally,  who,  while  they  sym- 
pathized with  his  loss,  yet  agreed  among  them- 
selves, that,  despite  Bellew 's  millions,  Sylvia 
had  done  vastly  well  for  herself,  seeing  that 
a  duke  is  always  a  duke,  —  especially  in 
America. 

There  were,  also,  divers  ladies  in  New  York, 
Newport,  and  elsewhere,  and  celebrated  for 
their  palatial  homes,  their  jewels,  and  their 
daugliters,  wlio  were  anxious  to  know  how 
Bellow  would  comport  himself  under  his  disap- 
pointment.    Some  leaned  to  th(;  idea  that  he 


2  THE   MONEY  MOON 

would  immediately  blow  his  brains  out ;  others 
opined  that  he  would  promptly  set  off  on  an- 
other of  his  exploring  expeditions,  and  get 
himself  torn  to  pieces  by  lions  and  tigers,  or 
devoured  by  alligators;  while  others  again 
feared  greatly  that,  in  a  fit  of  pique,  he  would 
marry  some  ''  young  person  "  unknown,  and 
therefore,  of  course,  utterly  unworthy. 

How  far  these  worthy  ladies  were  right,  or 
wrong  in  their  surmises,  they  who  take  the 
trouble  to  turn  the  following  pages,  shall  find 
out. 


CHAPTER   n 

How  George  Belleio  sought  counsel  of  his 

Valet 

The  first  intimation  Bellew  received  of  the 
futility  of  his  hopes  was  the  following  letter 
which  he  received  one  morning  as  he  sat  at 
breakfast  in  his  chambers  in  St.  James  Street, 
W. 


My  Dear  George  —  I  am  writing  to  tell  you 
that  I  like  you  so  much  that  I  am  quite  sure  I 
could  never  marry  you,  it  would  be  too  ridicu- 
lous. Liking,  you  see  George,  is  not  love,  is 
it?  Though,  personally,  I  think  all  that  sort 
of  thing  went  out  of  fashion  with  our  great- 
grandmother's  hoops,  and  crinolines.  So 
George,  I  have  decided  to  marry  the  Duke  of 
Ryde.  The  ceremony  will  take  place  in  three 
weeks  time  at  St.  George's,  Hanover  Square, 
and  everyone  will  be  there,  of  course.  If  you 
care  to  come  too,  so  much  the  better.  I  won't 
Bay  that  I  hope  you  will  forget  me,  because  I 
don't;   but  I  am  sure  you  will  find  someone  to 


4  THE   MONEY  MOON 

console  you  because  you  are  sucH  a  dear,  goo3 
fellow,  and  so  ridiculously  ricli. 

So  good-bye,  and  best  wishes, 

Ever  yours  most  sincerely, 

Sylvia. 

Now  under  sucb  circumstances,  had  Bellew 
sought  oblivion  and  consolation  from  bottles, 
or  gone  headlong  to  the  devil  in  any  of  other 
numerous  ways  that  are  more  or  less  inviting, 
deluded  people  would  have  pitied  him,  and 
shaken  grave  heads  over  him ;  for  it  seems  that 
disappointment  (more  especially  in  love)  may 
condone  many  offences,  and  cover  as  many  sins 
as  Charity. 

But  Bellew,  knowing  nothing  of  that  latter- 
day  hysteria  which  wears  the  disguise,  and 
calls  itself  "  Temperament,"  and  being  only  a 
rather  ordinary  young  man,  did  nothing  of  the 
kind.  Having  lighted  his  pipe,  and  read  the 
letter  through  again,  he  rang  instead  for  Bax- 
ter, his  valet. 

Baxter  was  small,  and  slight,  and  dapper  as 
to  person,  clean-shaven,  alert  of  eye,  and  soft  of 
movement,  —  in  a  word,  Baxter  was  the  cream 
of  gentlemen 's  gentlemen,  and  the  very  acme  of 
what  a  valet  should  be,  from  the  very  precise 
parting  of  his  glossy  hair,  to  the  trim  toes  of  his 


THE   MONEY   MOON  5 

glossy  boots.  Baxter  as  lias  been  said,  was  his 
valet,  and  bad  been  his  father's  valet,  before 
him,  and  as  to  age,  might  have  been  thirty,  or 
forty,  or  fifty,  as  he  stood  there  beside  the  table, 
with  one  eye-brow  raised  a  trifle  higher  than 
the  other,  waiting  for  Bellew  to  speak. 

*'  Baxter." 

''  Sir?  " 

"  Take  a  seat." 

*  *  Thank  you  sir. ' '  And  Baxter  sat  down,  not 
too  near  his  master,  nor  too  far  off,  but  exactly; 
at  the  right,  and  proper  distance. 

**  Baxter,  I  wish  to  consult  with  you." 

**  As  between  Master  and  Servant,  sir?  " 

*'  As  between  man  and  man,  Baxter." 

**  Very  good,  Mr.  George,  sir!  " 

**  I  should  like  to  hear  your  opinion,  Baxter, 
as  to  what  is  the  proper,  and  most  accredited 
course  to  adopt  when  one  has  been  —  er  — ■ 
crossed  in  love?  " 

*'  Why  sir,"  began  Baxter,  slightly  wrinkling 
his  smooth  brow,  '*  so  far  as  I  can  call  to  mind, 
the  courses  usually  adopted  by  despairing  lov- 
ers, are,  in  number,  four." 

'*  Name  them,  Baxter." 

"  First,  Mr.  George,  there  is  what  I  may 
term,  the  Course  Retaliatory,  —  which  is  Mar- 
riage —  " 


6  THE   MONEY  MOON 

**  Marriage?  '* 

' '  With  —  another  party,  sir,  —  on  the  prin- 
ciple that  there  are  as  good  fish  in  the  sea  as 
ever  came  out,  and  —  er  —  pebbles  on  beaches, 
sir;  you  understand  me,  sir?  " 

"  Perfectly,  go  on.'' 

**  Secondly,  there  is  the  Army,  sir,  I  have 
known  of  a  good  many  enlistments  on  account 
of  blighted  affections,  Mr.  George,  sir ;  indeed, 
the  Army  is  very  popular." 

'*  Ah?  "  said  Bellew,  settling  the  tobacco  in 
his  pipe  with  the  aid  of  the  salt-spoon,  **  Pro- 
ceed, Baxter." 

''  Thirdly,  Mr.  George,  there  are  those  who 
are  content  to  —  to  merely  disappear." 

' '  Hum !  ' '  said  Bellew. 

*'  And  lastly  sir,  though  it  is  usually  the 
first,  —  there  is  dissipation,  Mr.  George,  Drink, 
sir,  —  the  consolation  of  bottles,  and  —  ' ' 

"Exactly!"  nodded  Bellew.  *' Now  Bax- 
ter," he  pursued,  beginning  to  draw  diagrams 
on  the  table-cloth  with  the  salt-spoon,  **  know- 
ing me  as  you  do,  what  course  should  you  ad- 
vise me  to  adopt?  " 

*  *  You  mean,  Mr.  George,  —  speaking  as  be- 
tween man  and  man  of  course,  —  you  mean 
that  you  are  in  the  unfortunate  position  of  be- 
ing—  crossed  in  your  affections,  sir?  " 


THE  MONEY  MOON       7 

"Also  —  heart-broken,  Baxter." 

**  Certainly,  sir!  " 

*'  Miss  Marchmont  marries  the  Duke  of 
Eyde,  —  in  three  weeks,  Baxter." 

*'  Indeed,  sir!  " 

"  You  were,  I  believe,  aware  of  the  fact  that 
Miss  Marchmont  and  I  were  as  good  as  en- 
gaged? " 

**  I  had  —  hem!  —  gathered  as  much,  sir." 

"Then  —  confound  it  all,  Baxter!  —  why 
aren't  you  surprised!  " 

"  I  am  quite  —  over-come,  sir!  "  said  Bax- 
ter, stooping  to  recover  the  salt-spoon  which 
had  slipped  to  the  floor. 

"  Consequently,"  pursued  Bellew,  "  I  am  — 
er  —  broken-hearted,  as  I  told  you —  " 

"  Certainly,  sir." 

"  Crushed,  despondent,  and  utterly  hopeless, 
Baxter,  and  shall  be,  henceforth,  pursued  by 
the  —  er  —  Haunting  Spectre  of  the  Might 
Have  Been." 

"  Very  natural,  sir,  indeed!  " 

"  I  could  have  hoped,  Baxter,  that,  having 
served  me  so  long,  —  not  to  mention  my  father, 
you  would  have  shown  just  a  —  er  shade  more 
feeling  in  the  matter." 

**  And  if  you  were  to  ask  me,  —  as  between 
man  and  man  sir,  —  why  I  don't  show  more 


8  THE   MONEY   MOON 

feeling,  then,  speaking  as  tHe  old  servant  of 
your  respected  father.  Master  George,  sir,  —  I 
should  beg  most  respectfully  to  say  that  regard- 
ing the  lady  in  question,  her  conduct  is  not  in 
the  least  surprising,  Miss  Marchmont  being  a 
beauty,  and  aware  of  the  fact.  Master  George. 
Eeferring  to  your  heart,  sir,  I  am  ready  to 
swear  that  it  is  not  even  cracked.  And  now, 
sir,  —  what  clothes  do  you  propose  to  wear  this 
morning?  " 

''  And  pray,  why  should  you  be  so  confi- 
dent of  regarding  the  —  er  —  condition  of  my 
heart?  " 

*'  Because,  sir,  —  speaking  as  your  father's 
old  servant,  Master  George,  I  make  bold  to  say 
that  I  don't  believe  that  you  have  ever  been  in 
love,  or  even  know  what  love  is,  Master  George, 
sir. ' ' 

Bellew  picked  up  the  salt-spoon,  balanced  it 
very  carefully  upon  his  finger,  and  put  it  down 
again. 

''  Nevertheless,"  said  he,  shaking  his  head, 
"  I  can  see  for  myself  but  the  dreary  perspec- 
tive of  a  hopeless  future,  Baxter,  blasted  by  the 
Haunting  Spectre  of  the  Might  Have  Been ;  — 
I'll  trouble  you  to  push  the  cigarettes  a  little 
nearer." 

"  And  now,  sir,"  said  Baxter,  as  he  rose  to 


THE  MONEY  MOON       9 

strike,  and  apply  the  necessary  matcli,  ''  what 
suit  will  you  wear  to-day?  " 

"  Something  in  tweeds." 

'*  Tweeds,  sir!  surely  you  forget  your  ap- 
pointment with  the  Lady  Cecily  Prynne,  and 
her  party?  Lord  Mount-clair  had  me  on  the 
telephone,  last  night —  " 

"  Also  a  good,  heavy  walking-stick,  Baxter, 
and  a  knap-sack." 

**  A  knap-sack,  sir?  " 

''  I  shall  set  out  on  a  walking  tour  —  in  an 
hour's  time." 

*'  Certainly,  sir,  —  where  to,  sir?  " 

"  I  haven't  the  least  idea,  Baxter,  but  I'm 
going  —  in  an  hour.  On  the  whole,  of  the  four 
courses  you  describe  for  one  whose  life  is 
blighted,  whose  heart,  —  I  say  whose  heart, 
Baxter,  is  broken,  —  utterly  smashed,  and  — 
er  —  shivered  beyond  repair,  I  prefer  to  disap- 
pear—  in  an  hour,  Baxter." 

*'  Shall  you  drive  the  touring  car,  sir,  or  the 
new  racer?  " 

''  I  shall  walk,  Baxter,  alone,  —  in  an  hour." 


CHAPTER   in 

Which  concerns  itself  with  a  hay-cart,  and  a 
belligerent  Waggoner 

It  was  upon  a  certain  August  morning  that 
George  Bellew  shook  the  dust  of  London  from 
his  feet,  and,  leaving  Chance,  or  Destiny  to 
direct  him,  followed  a  hap-hazard  course,  care- 
less alike  of  how,  or  when,  or  where;  sighing 
as  often,  and  as  heavily  as  he  considered  his 
heart-broken  condition  required,  —  which  was 
very  often,  and  very  heavily,  —  yet  heeding,  for 
all  that,  the  glory  of  the  sun,  and  the  stir  and 
bustle  of  the  streets  about  him. 

Thus  it  was  that,  being  careless  of  his  ulti- 
mate destination,  Fortune  condescended  to  take 
him  under  her  wing,  (if  she  has  one),  and 
guided  his  steps  across  the  river,  into  the  lovely 
land  of  Kent,  —  that  county  of  gentle  hills, 
and  broad,  pleasant  valleys,  of  winding  streams 
and  shady  woods,  of  rich  meadows  and  smiling 
pastures,  of  grassy  lanes  and  fragrant  hedge- 
rows,—  that  most  delightful  land  which  has 
been  called,  and  very  rightly,  "  The  Garden  of 
England.'* 


THE   MONEY   MOON  11 

It  was  thus,  as  has  been  said,  upon  a 
fair  August  morning,  that  Bellew  set  out  on 
what  he  termed  '*  a  walking  tour."  The 
resen'ation  is  necessary  because  Bellew 's  idea 
of  a  walking-tour  is  original,  and  quaint. 
He  began  very  well,  for  Bellew,  —  in  the 
morning  he  walked  very  nearly  five  miles, 
and,  in  the  afternoon,  before  he  was  dis- 
covered, he  accomplished  ten  more  on  a 
hay-cart  that  haj^pened  to  be  going  in  his 
direction. 

He  had  swung  himself  up  among  the  hay, 
unobserved  by  the  somnolent  driver,  and  had 
ridden  thus  an  hour  or  more  in  that  delicious 
state  between  waking,  and  sleeping,  ere  the 
waggoner  discovered  him,  whereupon  ensued 
the  following  colloquy: 

The  Waggoner.  {Indignantly)  Halloa  there  I 
wliat  might  you  be  a  doing  of  in  my  hayf 

Bellew.  {Drowsily)  Enjoying  myself  im- 
mensely. 

The  Waggoner.  {Growling)  Well,  you  get 
out  o'  that,  and  sharp  about  it. 

Bellew.  {Yawning)  Not  on  your  life!  No 
sir,  — '  not  for  Cadwallader  and  all  his 
goats!  '  " 

The  Waggoner.  You  jest  get  down  out  o*  my 
bay,  —  now  come! 


12  THE   MONEY  MOON 

Bellew.  (Sleepily)  Enough,  good  fellow,  — 
go  to !  —  thy  voice  offends  mine  ear ! 

The  Waggoner.  (Threateningly)  Ear  be 
blowed !  If  ye  don 't  get  down  out  o '  my  hay,  — 
I'll  come  an'  throw  ye  out. 

Bellew.  (Drowsily)  'T would  be  an  act  of 
wanton  aggression  that  likes  me  not. 

The  Waggoner.  (Dubiously)  Where  be  ye 
goin'? 

Bellew.  Wherever  you  like  to  take  me; 
*  <  Thy  way  shall  be  my  way,  and  —  er  —  thy 
people —  (Yawn)  So  drive  on,  my  rustic  Jehu, 
and  Heaven's  blessings  prosper  thee!  " 

Saying  which,  Bellew  closed  his  eyes  again, 
sighed  plaintively,  and  once  more  composed 
himself  to  slumber. 

But  to  drive  on,  the  Waggoner,  very  evi- 
dently, had  no  mind ;  instead,  flinging  the  reins 
upon  the  backs  of  his  horses,  he  climbed  down 
from  his  seat,  and  spitting  on  his  hands, 
clenched  them  into  fists  and  shook  them  up  at 
the  yawning  Bellew,  one  after  the  other. 

**  It  be  enough,"  said  he,  **  to  raise  the  '  Old 
Adam  '  inside  o'  me  to  'ave  a  tramper  o'  the 
roads  a-snoring  in  my  hay,  —  but  I  ain  't  a-going 
to  be  called  names,  into  the  bargain.  '  Rusty  * 
—  I  may  be,  but  I  reckon  I'm  good  enough  for 
the  likes  o '  you,  —  so  come  on  down !  ' '  and  the 
Waggoner  shook  his  fists  again. 


THE   MONEY   MOON  13 

He  was  a  very  square  man,  was  this  "Wag- 
goner, square  of  head,  square  of  jaw,  and 
square  of  body,  with  twinkling  blue  eyes, 
and  a  pleasant,  good-natured  face;  but,  just 
now,  the  eyes  gleamed,  and  the  face  was  set 
grimly,  and,  altogether,  he  looked  a  very  ugly 
opponent. 

Therefore  Bellew  sighed  again,  stretched 
himself,  and,  very  reluctantly,  climbed  down 
out  of  the  hay.  No  sooner  was  he  fairly  in  the 
road,  than  the  Waggoner  went  for  him  with  a 
rush,  and  a  whirl  of  knotted  fists.  It  was  very 
dusty  in  that  particular  spot  so  that  it  pres- 
ently rose  in  a  cloud,  in  the  midst  of  which,  the 
battle  raged,  fast  and  furious. 

And,  in  a  while,  the  Waggoner,  rising  out  of 
the  ditch,  grinned  to  see  Bellew  wiping  blood 
from  his  face. 

' '  You  be  no  —  fool !  ' '  panted  the  Waggoner, 
mopping  his  face  with  the  end  of  his  necker- 
chief.   *'  Leastways,  —  not  wi'  your  fists." 

'*  Wliy,  you  are  pretty  good  yourself,  if  it 
comes  to  that,"  returned  Bellew,  mopping  in 
his  turn.  Thus  they  stood  a  while  stanching 
their  wounds,  and  gazing  upon  each  other  with 
a  mutual,  and  growing  respect. 

"  Woll?  "  enquired  Bellew,  when  he  had  re- 
covered his  breath  somewhat,  **  shall  we  begin 


14  THE   MONEY   MOON 

again,  or  do  you  think  we  have  had  enough? 
To  be  sure,  I  begin  to  feel  much  better  for  your 
efforts,  you  see,  exercise  is  what  I  most  need, 
just  novY,  on  account  of  the  —  er  —  Haunting 
Spectre  of  the  Might  Have  Been,  —  to  offset 
its  effect,  you  know;  but  it  is  uncomfortably 
warm  work  here,  in  the  sun,  isn't  it?  " 

''  Ah!  "  nodded  the  Waggoner,  ''  it  be." 

' '  Then  suppose  we  —  er  —  continue  our 
journey?  "  said  Bellew  with  his  dreamy  gaze 
upon  the  tempting  load  of  sweet-smelling  hay. 

'*  Ah!  "  nodded  the  Waggoner  again,  begin- 
ning to  roll  down  his  sleeves,  "  suppose  we  do; 
I  aren  't  above  giving  a  lift  to  a  chap  as  can  use 
'is  fists,  —  not  even  if  'e  is  a  vagrant,  and  a 
uncommon  dusty  one  at  that;  —  so,  if  you're  in 
the  same  mind  about  it,  up  you  get,  —  but  no 
more  furrin  curses,  mind!  "  With  which  ad- 
monition, the  Waggoner  nodded,  grinned,  and 
climbed  back  to  his  seat,  while  Bellew  swung 
himself  up  into  the  hay  once  more. 

**  Friend,"  said  he,  as  the  waggon  creaked 
upon  its  way,  '*  Do  you  smoke?  " 

* '  Ah !  ' '  nodded  the  Waggoner. 

*'  Then  here  are  three  cigars  which  you 
didn't  manage  to  smash  just  now." 

* '  Cigars !  why  it  ain  't  often  as  I  gets  so  far 
as  a  cigar,  unless  it  be  Squire,  or  Passon,  — 


THE   MONEY   MOON  15 

cigars,  eli!  "  Saying  wliieli,  the  T\^aggoner 
turned  and  accepted  the  cigars  which  he  pro- 
ceeded to  stow  away  in  the  cavernous  interior 
of  his  wide-eaved  hat,  handling  them  with  elab- 
orate care,  rather  as  if  they  were  explosives 
of  a  highly  dangerous  kind. 

Meanwhile,  George  Bellew,  American  Citizen, 
and  millionaire,  lay  upon  the  broad  of  his  back, 
staring  up  at  the  cloudless  blue  above,  and  de- 
spite heart  break,  and  a  certain  Haunting 
Shadow,  felt  singularly  content,  which  feeling 
he  was  at  some  pains  with  himself  to  account 
for, 

'*  It's  the  exercise,"  said  he,  speaking  his 
thought  aloud,  as  he  stretched  luxuriously  upon 
his  soft,  and  fragrant  couch,  **  after  all,  there 
is  nothing  like  a  little  exercise." 

**  That's  what  they  all  say!  "  nodded  the 
Waggoner.  ''  But  I  notice  as  them  as  says  it, 
ain't  over  fond  o'  doing  of  it,  —  they  mostly 
prefers  to  lie  on  their  backs,  an'  talk  about  it, 
—  like  yourself." 

"  Hum  !  "  said  Bellew, ''  ha !  *  Some  are  born 
to  exercise,  some  achieve  exercise,  and  some, 
like  myself,  have  exercise  thrust  upon  them.' 
But,  anj'^ay,  it  is  a  very  excollont  thing, — • 
more  especially  if  one  is  affected  with  a  —  er  — 
broken  heart.'* 


16  THE   MONEY  MOON 

'*  A  w'ot?  "  enquired  the  Waggoner. 

**  Blighted  affections,  then,"  sighed  Bellew, 
settling  himself  more  comfortably  in  the 
hay. 

' '  Yon  ciren  't  'inting  at  —  love,  are  ye  ?  "  en- 
quired the  Waggoner  cocking  a  somewhat 
sheepish  eye  at  him. 

"  I  was,  but,  just  at  pres  Ait,"  and  here  Bel- 
lv3W  lowered  his  voice,  *  *  it  is  a  —  er  —  rather 
painful  subject  with  me,  —  let  us,  therefore, 
talk  of  something  else." 

*'  You  don't  mean  to  say  as  your  'eart's 
broke,  do  ye?  "  enquired  the  Waggoner  in  a 
tone  of  such  vast  surprise  and  disbelief,  th  t 
Bellew  turned,  and  propped  himself  on  an  in- 
dignant elbow. 

**  And  why  the  deuce  not?  "  he  retorted, 
"  my  heart  is  no  more  impervious  than  anyone 
else's,  —  confound  it!  " 

*'  But,"  said  the  Waggoner,  **  you  ain't  got 
the  look  of  a  'eart-broke  cove,  no  more  than 
Squire  Cassilis,  —  which  the  same  I  heard  tell- 
ing Miss  Anthea  as  'is  'eart  were  broke,  no 
later  thrn  yesterday,  at  two  o'clock  in  the  arter- 
noon,  as  ever  was." 

**  Anthea!"  repeated  Bellew,  blinking 
drowsily  up  at  the  sky  again,  **  that  is  a  very 
quaint  name,  and  very  pretty. ' ' 


THE   MONEY   MOON  17 

"Pretty,  —  ah,  —  an'  so's  M'ss  Antliea!  — 
as  a  pict'er." 

**  Oh,  really?  "  yawned  Bellew. 

'*  Ah!  "  nodded  the  Wagg'^ner,  *'  there  ain't 
a  man,  in  or  out  o'  the  parish,  from  Squire 
down,  as  don't  think  the  very  same." 

But  h  re,  the  W«tgoner's  voice  tailed  off 
into  a  m-jr;ningless  drone  that  became  merged 
with  the  creaking  of  the  wheels,  the  plodding 
hoof-strokes  of  the  h  rses,  and  Bellew  fell 
asleep. 

He  was  awakened  by  feeling  himself  shc^ken 
lustily,  and,  sitting  up,  saw  that  they  had  come 
to  where  a  narrow  lane  branched  off  from  the 
high  road,  and  wound  away  between  gr-»at 
trees. 

**  Yon's  your  way,"  nodded  the  Waggoner, 
pointing  along  the  high  road,  "  Dapplemere  vil- 
lage lies  over  yonder,  'bout  a  mile  " 

"  Thank  you  very  much,"  s  id  Bellew,  *'  but 
1  don't  want  the  village." 

'*  No?  "  enquired  the  Waggoner,  scratching 
his  head. 

**  Certainly  not,"  answered  Bellew. 

**  Then  —  whr.t  do  ye  want?  " 

*'  Oh  well,  I'll  just  go  on  lying  here,  and  see 
what  turns  up,  —  so  drive  on,  like  the  good 
fellow  you  are." 


18  THE   MONEY   MOON 


<  I 


Can't  be  done!  "  said  the  Waggoner. 

''  Why  not?  " 

< '  Why,  since  yon  ax  me  —  because  I  don 't 
have  to  drive  no  farther.  There  be  the 
farm-house,  —  over  the  up-land  yonder,  you 
can't  see  it  because  o'  the  trees,  but  there 
it  be." 

So,  Bellew  sighed  resignedly,  and,  perforce, 
climbed  down  into  the  road. 

"  What  do  I  owe  youf  "  he  enquired. 

*'  Owe  me?  "  said  the  Waggoner,  staring. 

'^  For  the  ride,  and  the  —  er  —  very  neces- 
sary exercise  you  afforded  me." 

*  *  Lord !  ' '  cried  the  Waggoner  with  a  sudden, 
great  laugh,  '^  you  don't  owe  me  nothin'  for 
that,  —  not  nohow,  —  I  owe  you  one  for  a 
knocking  of  me  into  that  ditch,  back  yonder, 
though,  to  be  sure,  I  did  give  ye  one  or  two 
good  'uns,  didn't  I?  " 

'*  You  certainly  did!  "  answered  Bellew  smi- 
ling, and  he  held  out  his  hand. 

*  *  Hey !  —  what  be  this  ?  ' '  cried  the  Wag- 
goner, staring  down  at  the  bright  five-shilling 
piece  in  his  palm. 

*'  Well,  I  rather  think  it's  five  shillings,"  said 
Bellew.  **  It's  big  enough,  heaven  knows. 
English  money  is  all  O.K.,  I  suppose,  but  it's 
confoundedly  confusing,  and  rather  heavy  to 


THE   MONEY   MOON  19 

drag  around  if  you  happen  to  have  enough  of 
it—" 

* '  Ah !  ' '  nodded  the  Waggoner,  ' '  but  then 
nobody  never  has  enough  of  it,  —  leastways,  I 
never  knowed  nobody  as  had.  Good-bye,  sir! 
and  thankee,  and  —  good  luck!  "  saying  which, 
the  Waggoner  chirrupped  to  his  horses,  slipped 
the  coin  into  his  pocket,  nodded,  and  the  wag- 
gon creaked  and  rumbled  up  the  lane. 

Bellew  strolled  along  the  road,  breathing  an 
air  fragrant  with  honey-suckle  from  the  hedges, 
and  full  of  the  song  of  birds ;  pausing,  now  and 
then,  to  listen  to  the  blythe  carol  of  a  slc}^-lark, 
or  the  rich,  sweet  notes  of  a  black-bird,  and 
feeling  that  it  was  indeed,  good  to  be  alive ;  so 
that,  what  with  all  this,  —  the  springy  turf  be- 
neath his  feet,  and  the  blue  expanse  over-head, 
he  began  to  whistle  for  very  joy  of  it,  until,  re- 
membering the  Haunting  Shadow  of  the  Might 
Have  Been,  he  checked  himself,  and  sighed  in- 
stead. Presently,  turning  from  the  road,  he 
climbed  a  stile,  and  followed  a  narrow  path  that 
led  away  across  the  meadows,  and,  as  he  went, 
there  mot  him  a  gentle  wind  laden  with  the 
sweet,  warm  scent  of  ripening  hops,  and  fruit. 

On  he  went,  and  on,  —  hoodloss  of  his  direc- 
tion until  the  sun  grew  low,  and  he  grew  hun- 
gry;   wherefore,  looking  about,   he   presently 


20  THE   MONEY   MOON 

espied  a  nook  sheltered  from  the  sun's  level 
rays  by  a  steep  bank  where  flowers  bloomed, 
and  ferns  grew.  Here  he  sat  down,  nnslinging 
his  knapsack,  and  here  it  was,  also,  that  he  first 
encountered  Small  Porges. 


CHAPTER   IV 

Bow  Small  Forges  in  looking  for  a  fortune  for 
another,  found  an  Uncle  for  himself  instead 

The  meeting  of  George  Bellew  and  Small 
Porges,  (as  lie  afterward  came  to  be  called), 
was  sudden,  precipitate,  and  wholly  unex- 
pected ;   and  it  befell  on  this  wise : 

Bellew  had  opened  his  knap-sack,  had  fished 
thence  cheese,  clasp-knife,  and  a  crusty  loaf  of 
bread,  and,  having  exerted  himself  so  far,  had 
fallen  a  thinking  or  a  dreaming,  in  his  charac- 
teristic attitude,  i.  e. :  —  on  the  flat  of  his  back, 
when  he  was  aware  of  a  crash  in  the  hedge 
above,  and  then,  of  something  that  hurtled  past 
him,  all  arms  and  legs,  that  rolled  over  two  or 
three  times,  and  eventually  brought  up  in  a 
sitting  posture;  and,  lifting  a  lazy  head,  Bel- 
lew observed  that  it  was  a  boy.  He  was 
a  very  diminutive  boy  with  a  round  head 
covered  with  coppery  curls,  a  boy  who 
stared  at  Bellew  out  of  a  pair  of  very  round, 
blue  eyes,  while  he  tenderly  cherished  a  knee, 
and  an  elbow.  He  had  been  on  the  brink  of 
tears  for  a  moment,  but  meeting  Bellew 's  quiz- 


22  THE   MONEY   MOON 

zical  gaze,  lie  manfully  repressed  the  weakness, 
and,  lifting  the  small,  and  somewhat  weather- 
beaten  cap  that  found  a  precarious  perch  at  the 
back  of  his  curly  head,  he  gravely  wished  Bel- 
lew  "  Good  afternoon!  " 

* '  Well  met,  my  Lord  Chesterfield !  ' '  nodded 
Bellew,  returning  the  salute,  ''  are  you  hurt?  " 

' '  Just  a  bit  —  on  the  elbow ;  but  my  name 's 
George." 

<'  Why  —  so  is  mine !  "  said  Bellew. 

**  Though  they  call  me  '  Georgy-Porgy. '  " 

^'  Of  course  they  do,"  nodded  Bellew,  **  they 
used  to  call  me  the  same,  once  upon  a  time, — 

Georgy  Porgy,  pudding  and  pie 
Kissed  the  girls,  and  made  them  cry, 

though  I  never  did  anything  of  the  kind,  —  one 
doesn't  do  that  sort  of  thing  when  one  is  young, 
—  and  wise,  that  comes  later,  and  brings  its 
own  care,  and  —  er  —  heart-break. ' '  Here  Bel- 
lew sighed,  and  hacked  a  piece  from  the  loaf 
with  the  clasp-knife.  ''  Are  you  hungry, 
Georgy  Porgy?  "  he  enquired,  glancing  up  at 
the  boy  who  had  risen,  and  was  removing  some 
of  the  soil  and  dust  from  his  small  person  with 
his  cap. 

''  Yes  I  am.'» 


THE    MONEY   MOON  23 


( i 


Then  here  is  bread,  and  cheese,  and  bottled 
stout,  —  so  fall  to,  good  comrade." 

**  Thank  you,  but  I've  got  a  piece  of  bread 
an'  jam  in  my  bundle, —  " 

"  Bundle?  " 

**  I  dropped  it  as  I  came  through  the  hedge, 
I'll  get  it,"  and  as  he  spoke,  he  turned,  and, 
climbing  up  the  bank,  presently  came  back 
with  a  very  small  bundle  that  dangled  from  the 
end  of  a  very  long  stick,  and  seating  himself 
beside  Bellew,  he  proceeded  to  open  it.  There, 
sure  enough,  was  the  bread  and  jam  in  question, 
seemingly  a  little  the  worse  for  wear  and  tear, 
for  Bellew  observed  various  articles  adhering 
to  it,  amongst  other  things,  a  battered  pen- 
knife, and  a  top.  These,  however,  were  readily 
removed,  and  Georgy  Porgy  fell  to  with  excel- 
lent appetite. 

**  And  pray,"  enquired  Bellew,  after  they 
had  munched  silently  together,  some  while, 
*'  pray  where  might  you  be  going?  " 

**  I  don't  know  yet,"  answered  Georgy  Porgy 
with  a  shake  of  his  curls. 

"  Good  again!  "  exclaimed  Bellew,  *'  neither 
do  I." 

**  Though  I've  been  thinking  of  Africa,"  con- 
tinued his  diminutive  companion,  turning  the 
remains  of  the  bread  and  jam  over  and  over 
thoughtfuJly. 


24  THE   MONEY  MOON 

* '  Africa !  ' '  repeated  Bellew,  staring, 
''  that's  quite  a  goodisli  step  from  here." 

* '  Yes, ' '  sighed  Georgy  Porgy, ' '  but,  you  see, 
there 's  gold  there,  oh,  lots  of  it !  they  dig  it  out 
of  the  ground  with  shovels,  you  know.  Old 
Adam  told  me  all  'bout  it;  an'  it's  gold  I'm 
looking  for,  you  see,  I'm  trying  to  find  a  for- 
tune. ' ' 

''  I  —  er  —  beg  your  pardon — ?  "  said  Bel- 
lew. 

''  Money,  you  Imow,'^  explainied  Georgy 
Porgy  with  a  patient  sigh,  ''  pounds,  an'  shil- 
lings, an'  bank-notes  —  in  a  sack  if  I  can  get 
them. ' ' 

*'  And  what  does  such  a  very  small  Georgy 
Porgy  want  so  much  money  for?  " 

"  Well,  it's  for  my  Auntie,  you  know,  so  she 
won't  have  to  sell  her  house,  an'  go  away  from 
Dapplemere.  She  was  telling  me,  last  night, 
when  I  was  in  bed,  —  she  always  comes  to  tuck 
me  up,  you  know,  an'  she  told  me  she  was  'fraid 
we'd  have  to  sell  Dapplemere  an'  go  to  live 
somewhere  else.  So  I  asked  why,  an'  she  said 
*  'cause  she  hadn't  any  money,'  an'  '  Oh 
Georgy !  '  she  said, '  oh  Georgy,  if  we  could  only 
find  enough  money  to  pay  off  the  —  the  —  *  '  * 

*'  Mortgage?  "  suggested  Bellew,  at  a  ven- 
ture. 


THE   MONEY   MOON  25 

*'  Yes,  —  that's  it,  but  how  did  you  know?  " 

*'  Never  mind  how,  go  on  with  your  tale, 
Georgy  Porgy." 

"  *  If  —  we  could  only  find  enough  money, 
or  somebody  would  leave  us  a  fortune,'  she 
said,  —  an'  she  was  crying  too,  'cause  I  felt 
a  tear  fall  on  me,  you  know.  So  this  morn- 
ing I  got  up,  awful'  early,  an'  made  myself  a 
bundle  on  a  stick,  —  like  Dick  Whittington  had 
when  he  left  home,  an'  I  started  off  to  find  a 
fortune. ' ' 

''  I  see,"  nodded  Bcllew. 

'*  But  I  haven't  found  anything  —  yet,"  said 
Georgy  Porgy,  with  a  long  sigh,  ''  I  s'pose 
money  takes  a  lot  of  looking  for,  doesn't  it?  " 

"  Sometimes,"  Bellew  answered.  "  And  do 
you  live  alone  with  your  Auntie  then,  Georgy 
Porgy?  " 

**  Yes;  —  most  boys  live  with  their  mothers, 
but  that's  where  I'm  different,  I  don't  need  one 
'cause  I've  got  my  Auntie  Anthea." 

"  Anthea!  "  repeated  Bellew,  thoughtfully. 
Hereupon  they  fell  silent,  Bellew  watching  the 
smoke  curl  up  from  his  pipe  into  the  warm, 
still  air,  and  Georgy  Porgy  watching  him  with 
very  thoughtful  eyes,  and  a  somewhat  troubled 
brow,  as  if  turning  over  some  weighty  matter 
in  liis  mind;   at  last,  he  spoke: 


26  THE   MONEY   MOON 

''  Please,"  said  he,  with  a  sudden  diffidence, 
*'  where  do  you  live?  " 

''  Live,"  repeated  Bellew,  smiling,  *'  under 
my  hat,  —  here,  there,  and  everywhere,  which 
means  —  nowhere  in  particular. ' ' 

' '  But  I  —  I  mean  —  where  is  your  home  1  ' ' 

''  My  home,"  said  Bellew,  exhaling  a  great 
cloud  of  smoke,  ''  my  home  lies  beyond  the 
*  bounding  billow.'  " 

"  That  sounds  an  awful'  long  way  off." 

^^  It  is  an  awful'  long  way  off." 

*  *  An '  where  do  you  sleep  while  —  while 
you're  here?  " 

*'  Anywhere  they'll  let  me.  To-night  I  shall 
sleep  at  some  inn,  I  suppose,  if  I  can  find  one, 
if  not,  —  under  a  hedge,  or  hay-rick. ' ' 

*'  Oh!  —  haven't  you  got  any  home  of  your 
own,  then,  —  here?  " 

*'  No." 

*'  And  —  you're  not  going  home  just  yet, — 


I  mean  across  the  *  bounding  billow?  '  " 

''Not  yet." 

''Then  —  please — "  the  small  boy's  voice 
was  suddenly  tremulous  and  eager,  and  he  laid 
a  little,  grimy  hand  upon  Bellew 's  sleeve, 
"  please  —  if  it  isn't  too  much  trouble  —  would 
you  mind  coming  with  me  —  to  —  to  help  me  to 
find  the  fortune?  —  you  see,  you  are  so  very 
big,  an'  —  Oh!  —  will  you  please?  " 


THE   MONEY  MOON  27 

George  Bellew  sat  up  suddenly,  and  smiled; 
Bellew's  smile  was,  at  all  times,  wouderfully 
pleasant  to  see,  at  least,  the  boy  thought  so. 

**  Georgy  Porgy,"  said  he,  '*  you  can  just 
bet  your  small  life,  I  will,  —  and  there's  my 
hand  on  it,  old  chap."  Bellew's  lips  were  sol- 
emn now,  but  all  the  best  of  his  smile  seemed, 
somehow,  to  have  got  into  his  gray  eyes.  So 
the  big  hand  clasped  the  small  one,  and  as  they 
looked  at  each  other,  there  sprang  up  a  certain 
understanding  that  was  to  be  an  enduring  bond 
between  them. 

**  I  think,"  said  Bellew,  as  he  lay,  and  puffed 
at  his  pipe  again,  "  I  think  I'll  call  you  Porges, 
it's  shorter,  easier,  and  I  think,  altogether  apt; 
I'll  be  Big  Porges,  and  you  shall  be  Small 
Porges,  —  what  do  you  say?  " 

**  Yes,  it's  lots  better  than  Georgy  Porgy,'* 
nodded  the  boy.  And  so  Small  Porges  he  be- 
came, thenceforth.  "  But,"  said  he,  after  a 
thoughtful  pause,  '*  I  think,  if  you  don't  mind, 
I'd  rather  call  you  —  Uncle  Porges.  You  see, 
Dick  Bennet  —  the  black-smith's  boy,  has  three 
uncles  an'  I've  only  got  a  single  aunt,  —  so, 
if  you  don't  mind —  " 

**  Uncle  Porgos  it  shall  be,  now  and  for  ever, 
Amon  !  "  murmurod  Bollew. 

"  An'  when  d'you  s'pose  we'd  better  start?  " 


28  THE   MONEY   MOON 

enquired  Small  Porges,  beginning  to  re-tie  his 
bundle. 

**  Start  where,  nephew?  '* 

''  To  find  the  fortune." 

"  Hum!  "  said  Bellew. 

' '  If  we  could  manage  to  find  some,  —  even  if 
it  was  only  a  very  little,  it  would  cheer  her  up 
so." 

''To  be  sure  it  would,"  said  Bellew,  and, 
sitting  up,  he  pitched  loaf,  cheese,  and  clasp- 
knife  back  into  the  knap-sack,  fastened  it,  slung 
it  upon  his  shoulders,  and  rising,  took  up  his 
stick. 

''  Come  on,  my  Porges,"  said  he,  **  and, 
whatever  you  do  —  keep  your  '  weather  eye  ' 
on  your  uncle." 

"  Where  do  you  s'pose  we'd  better  look 
first?  "  enquired  Small  Porges,  eagerly. 

"  Why,  first,  I  think  we'd  better  find  your 
Auntie  Anthea." 

' '  But,  —  ' '  began  Porges,  his  face  falling. 

"  But  me  no  huts,  my  Porges,"  smiled  Bel- 
lew, laying  his  hand  upon  his  new-found 
nephew's  shoulder,  "  but  me  no  buts,  boy,  and, 
as  I  said  before,  —  just  keep  your  eye  on  your 
.  uncle. '  * 


CHAPTER  V 

"How  Bellew  came  to  Arcadia 

So,  they  set  out  together,  Big  Porges  and  Small 
Porges,  walking  side  hy  side  over  sun-kissed 
field  and  meadow,  slowly  and  thoughtfully,  to 
be  sure,  for  Bellew  disliked  hurry ;  often  paus- 
ing to  listen  to  the  music  of  running  waters,  or 
to  stare  away  across  the  purple  valley,  for  the 
sun  was  getting  low.  And,  ever  as  they  went, 
they  talked  to  one  another  whole-heartedly  as 
good  friends  should. 

And,  from  the  boy's  eager  lips,  Bellew  heard 
much  of  **  Auntie  Anthea,"  and  learned,  little 
by  little,  something  of  the  brave  fight  she  had 
made,  lonely  and  unaided,  and  burdened  with 
ancient  debt,  to  make  the  farm  of  Dapplemere 
pay.  Likewise  Small  Porges  spoke  learnedly 
of  the  condition  of  the  markets,  and  of  the  dis- 
tressing fall  in  prices  in  regard  to  hay,  and 
wheat. 

**  Old  Adam,  —  lie's  our  man,  you  know, 
be  says  that  farming  isn't  what  it  was  in  his 
young  days,  'specially  if  you  happen  to  be  a 
woman,  like  my  Auntie  Anthea,  an'  he  told  me 


30  THE   MONEY  MOON 

yesterday  that  if  lie  were  Auntie  he'd  give 
up  trying,  an'  take  Mr.  Cassilis  at  his 
word. ' ' 

'*  Cassilis,  ah!  —  And  who  is  Mr.  Cassilis?  " 

*'  He  lives  at  '  Brampton  Court  '  —  a  great, 
big  house  'bout  a  mile  from  Dapplemere;  an' 
he's  always  asking  my  Auntie  to  marry  him, 
but  'course  she  won 't  you  know. ' ' 

'' Wliy  not?  " 

*'  Well,  I  think  it's  'cause  he's  got  such  big, 
white  teeth  when  he  smiles,  —  an'  he's  always 
smiling,  you  know ;  but  Old  Adam  says  that  if 
he'd  been  born  a  woman  he'd  marry  a  man  all 
teeth,  or  no  teeth  at  all,  if  he  had  as  much 
money  as  Mr.  Cassilis." 

The  sun  was  low  in  the  "West  as,  skirting  a 
wood,  they  came  out  upon  a  grassy  lane  that 
presently  led  them  into  the  great,  broad  high- 
way. 

Now,  as  they  trudged  along  together,  Small 
Porges  with  one  hand  clasped  in  Bellew's,  and 
the  other  supporting  the  bundle  on  his  shoul- 
der, there  appeared,  galloping  towards  them  a 
man  on  a  fine  black  horse,  at  sight  of  whom, 
Porges '  clasp  tightened,  and  he  drew  nearer  to 
Bellew's  side. 

When  he  was  nearly  abreast  of  them, 
the    horse-man    checked    his    career    so    sud- 


THE   MONEY   MOON  31 

deiily  that  his  animal  was  thrown  back  on  his 
haunches. 

"  Why  —  Georgy!  "  he  exclaimed. 

**  Good  evening,  Mr.  Cassilis!  "  said  Small 
Porges,  lifting  his  cap. 

Mr,  Cassilis  was  tall,  handsome,  well  built, 
and  very  particular  as  to  dress.  Bellew  noticed 
that  his  teeth  were,  indeed,  very  large  and 
white,  beneath  the  small,  carefully  trained 
moustache;  also  his  eyes  seemed  just  a  trifle 
too  close  together,  perhaps. 

"  Why  —  what  in  the  world  have  you  been 
up  to,  boy?  "  he  enquired,  regarding  Bellew 
with  no  very  friendly  eye.  **  Your  Aunt  is 
worrying  herself  ill  on  your  account,  —  what 
have  you  been  doing  with  yourself  all  day?  " 

Again  Bellew  felt  the  small  fingers  tighten 
round  his,  and  the  small  figure  shrink  a  little 
closer  to  him,  as  Small  Porges  answered, 

"  I've  been  with  Uncle  Porges,  Mr.  Cas- 
silis." 

**  With  whom?  "  demanded  Mr.  Cassilis, 
more  sharply. 

"  With  his  Uncle  Porges,  sir,"  Bellew  re- 
joined, "  a  trustworthy  person,  and  very  much 
at  your  service." 

Mr.  Cassilis  stared,  his  hand  began  to  stroke 
and  caress  his  small,  black  moustache,  and  he 


it 


32  THE   MONEY  MOON 

viewed  Bellew  from  his  dusty  boots  up  to  the 
crown  of  his  dusty  hat,  and  down  again,  with 
supercilious  eyes. 

**  Uncle?  "  he  repeated  incredulously. 
Porges,"  nodded  Bellew. 
I    wasn't    aware,"    began    Mr.    Cassilis, 
*  *  that  —  er  —  George     was     so    very    fortu- 
nate —  ' ' 

''Baptismal  name  —  George,"  continued 
Bellew,  ' '  lately  of  New  York,  Newport,  and  — 
er  —  other  places  in  America,  U.  S.  A.,  at  pres- 
ent of  Nowhere-in-Particular. " 

'*  Ah!  "  said  Mr.  Cassilis,  his  eyes  seeming 
to  grow  a  trifle  nearer  together,  "  an  Amer- 
ican Uncle  1  Still,  I  was  not  aware  of  even  that 
relationship. ' ' 

''It  is  a  singularly  pleasing  thought," 
smiled  Bellew,  "  to  know  that  we  may  learn 
something  every  day,  —  that  one  never  knows 
what  the  day  may  bring  forth ;  to-morrow,  for 
instance,  you  also  may  find  yourself  a  nephew 
—  somewhere  or  other,  though,  personally,  I  — 
er  doubt  it,  yes,  I  greatly  doubt  it;  still,  one 
never  knows,  you  know,  and  while  there's  life, 
there's  hope.  A  very  good  afternoon  to  you, 
sir.  Come,  nephew  mine,  the  evening  falls 
apace,  and  I  grow  aweary,  —  let  us  on  — 
Excelsior!  " 


THE   MONEY   MOON  33 

Mr.  Cassilis's  cheek  grew  suddenly  red,  lie 
twirled  his  moustache  angrily,  and  seemed 
about  to  speak,  then  he  smiled  instead,  and 
turning  his  horse,  spurred  him  savagely,  and 
galloped  back  down  the  road  in  a  cloud  of  dust. 

*'  Did  you  see  his  teeth.  Uncle  Porges?  " 

''  I  did." 

**  He  only  smiles  like  that  when  he's  awful' 
angry,"  said  Small  Porges  shaking  his  head 
as  the  galloping  hoof-strokes  died  away  in  the 
distance,  *'  An'  what  do  you  s'pose  he  went 
back  for!  " 

"  Well,  Porges,  it's  in  my  mind  that  he  has 
gone  back  to  warn  our  Auntie  Anthea  of  our 
coming." 

Small  Porges  sighed,  and  his  feet  dragged 
in  the  dust. 

"  Tired,  my  Porges?  " 

''  Just  a  bit,  you  know,  —  but  it  isn't  that. 
I  was  thinking  that  the  day  has  almost  gone, 
an'  I  haven't  found  a  bit  of  the  fortune  yet.** 

*'  Viliy  there's  always  to-morrow  to  live  for, 
my  Porges." 

*' Yes,  'course  —  there's  always  to-morrow; 
an'  then,  —  I  did  find  you,  you  know,  Uncle 
Porges." 

"  To  be  sure  you  did,  and  an  uncle  is  better 
than  nothing  at  all,  isn't  he,  —  even  if  he  is 


34  THE   MONEY   MOON 

rather  dusty  and  disreputable  of  exterior.  One 
doesn't  find  an  uncle  every  day  of  one's  life, 
my  Porges,  no  sir!  " 

**  An'  you  are  so  nice  an'  big,  you  know!  " 
said  Porges,  viewing  Bellew  with  a  bright,  ap- 
proving eye. 

**  Long,  would  be  a  better  word,  perhaps," 
suggested  Bellew,  smiling  down  at  him. 

"An'  wide,  too!"  nodded  Small  Porges. 
And,  from  these  'wo  facts  he  seemed  to  derive 
a  deal  of  solid  comfort,  and  satisfaction  for  he 
strode  on  manfully  once  more. 

Leaving  the  high-road,  he  guided  Bellew  by 
divers  winding  paths,  through  corn-fields,  and 
over  stiles,  until,  at  length,  they  were  come  to 
an  orchard.  Such  an  orchard  as  surely  may  only 
be  found  in  Kent,  —  where  great  apple-trees, 
gnarled,  and  knotted,  shot  out  huge  branches 
that  seemed  to  twist,  and  writhe;  where  were 
stately  pear  trees;  where  peaches,  and  apri- 
cots, ripened  against  time-worn  walls  whose 
red  bricks  still  glowed  rosily  for  all  their  years ; 
where  the  air  was  sweet  with  the  scent  of  fruit, 
and  fragrant  with  thyme,  and  sage,  and  mar- 
joram; and  where  the  black-birds,  bold  ma- 
rauders that  they  are,  piped  gloriously  all  day 
long.  In  the  midst  of  this  orchard  they 
stopped,  and  Small  Porges  rested  one  hand 


THE   MONEY   MOON  35 

against  the  rugged  bole  of  a  great,  old  apple- 
tree. 

"  This,"  said  he,  *'  is  my  very  own  tree,  be- 
cause he's  so  very  big,  an'  so  very,  very  old, — 
Adam  says  he's  the  oldest  tree  in  the  orchard. 
I  call  him  *  King  Arthur  '  'cause  he  is  so  big, 
an'  strong,  —  just  like  a  king  should  be,  you 
know,  —  an'  all  the  other  trees  are  his  Knights 
of  the  Round  Table." 

But  BcUew  was  not  looking  at  *'  King 
Arthur  "  just  then;  his  eyes  were  turned  to 
where  one  came  towards  them  through  the 
green,  —  one  surely  as  tall,  and  gracious,  as 
proud  and  beautiful,  as  Enid,  or  Guinevere,  or 
any  of  those  lovely  ladies,  for  all  her  simple 
gown  of  blue,  and  the  sunbonnet  that  shaded 
the  beauty  of  her  face.  Yes,  as  he  gazed,  Bel- 
lew  was  sure  and  certain  tliat  she  who,  all 
unconscious  of  their  presence,  came  slowly 
towards  them  with  the  red  glow  of  the  sunset 
about  her,  was  handsomer,  lovelier,  statelier, 
and  altogether  more  desirable  than  all  the  beau- 
tiful ladies  of  King  Arthur's  court,  —  or  any 
other  court  soever. 

But  now  Small  Porges  finding  him  so  silent, 
and  seeing  where  he  looked,  must  needs  behold 
her  too,  and  gave  a  sudden,  glad  cry,  and  ran 
out   from    behind    the   great   bulk   of   **  King 


36  THE   MONEY  MOON 

Arthur, ' '  and  she,  hearing  his  voice,  tdrned  and 
ran  to  meet  him,  and  sank  upon  her  knees  be- 
fore him,  and  clasped  him  against  her  heart, 
and  rejoiced,  and  wept,  and  scolded  him,  all  in 
a  breath.  Wherefore  Bellew,  unobserved,  as 
yet  in  * '  King  Arthur 's  ' '  shadow,  watching  the 
proud  head  with  its  wayward  curls,  (for  the 
sunbonnet  had  been  tossed  back  upon  her  shoul- 
ders), watching  the  quick,  passionate  caress  of 
those  slender,  brown  hands,  and  listening  to  the 
thrilling  tenderness  of  that  low,  soft  voice,  felt, 
all  at  once,  strangely  lonely,  and  friendless,  and 
out  of  place,  very  rough  and  awkward,  and 
very  much  aware  of  his  dusty  person,  —  felt, 
indeed,  as  any  other  ordinary  human  might, 
who  had  tumbled  unexpectedly  into  Arcadia; 
therefore  he  turned,  thinking  to  steal  quietly 
away. 

''  You  see,  Auntie,  I  went  out  to  try  an'  find 
a  fortune  for  you,"  Small  Porges  was  explain- 
ing, *'  an'  I  looked,  an'  looked,  but  I  didn't  find 
abit— " 

*'  My  dear,  dear,  brave  Georgy!  "  said  An- 
thea,  and  would  have  kissed  him  again,  but  he 
put  her  off; 

**  "Wait  a  minute,  please  Auntie,"  he  said 
excitedly,  **  'cause  I  did  find  —  something, — 
just  as  I  was  growing  very  tired  an'  disap- 


THE   MONEY   MOON  37 

pointed,  I  found  Uncle  Forges  —  under  a 
hedge,  j^ou  know." 

"  Uncle  Forges!  "  said  Antliea,  starting, 
**  Oh!  that  must  be  the  man  Mr.  Cassilis  men- 
tioned—  " 

*'  So  I  brought  him  with  me,*'  pursued  Small 
Forges,  *'  an'  there  he  is!  "  and  he  pointed 
triumphantly  towards  *'  King  Arthur.'* 

Glancing  thither,  Anthea  beheld  a  tall,  dusty 
figure  moving  off  among  the  trees. 

"  Oh,  —  wait,  please!  "  she  called,  rising  to 
her  feet,  and,  with  Small  Forges'  hand  in  hers, 
approached  Bellew  who  had  stopped  with  his 
dusty  back  to  them. 

*' I  —  I  want  to  thank  you  for  —  taking 
care  of  my  nephew.  If  you  will  come  up 
to  the  house  cook  shall  give  you  a  good 
meal,  and,  if  you  are  in  need  of  work, 
I  —  I  —  "  her  voice  faltered  uncertainly,  and 
she   stopped. 

*'  Thank  you!  "  said  Bellew,  turning  and 
lifting  his  hat. 

**  Oh!  —  I  beg  your  pardon!  "  said  Anthea. 

Now  as  their  eyes  met,  it  seemed  to  Bellew 
as  though  he  had  lived  all  his  life  in  expectation 
of  tliis  moment,  and  he  knew  that  all  his  life  he 
should  never  forget  this  moment.  But  now, 
even  while  he  looked  at  her,  he  saw  her  cheeks 


38  THE   MONEY   MOON 

flush  painfully,  and  her  dark  eyes  grow 
troubled. 

'*  I  beg  your  pardon!  "  said  she  again,  **  I  — 
I  thought  —  Mr.  Cassilis  gave  me  to  under- 
stand that  you  were  —  ' ' 

**  A  very  dusty,  hungry-looking  fellow,  per- 
haps," smiled  Bellew,  '*  and  he  was  quite  right, 
you  know;  the  dust  you  can  see  for  yourself, 
but  the  hunger  you  must  take  my  word  for.  As 
for  the  work,  I  assure  you  exercise  is  precisely 
what  I  am  looking  for. ' ' 

* '  But  —  ' '  said  Anthea,  and  stopped,  and 
tapped  the  grass  nervously  with  her  foot,  and 
twisted  one  of  her  bonnet-strings,  and  meeting 
Bellew 's  steady  gaze,  flushed  again,  *'  but  you 
—  you  are  —  ' ' 

*'  My  Uncle  Porges,"  her  nephew  chimed  in, 
**  an'  I  brought  him  home  with  me  'cause  he's 
going  to  help  me  to  find  a  fortune,  an'  he  hasn't 
got  any  place  to  go  to  'cause  his  home's 
far,  far  beyond  the  *  bounding  billow,'  —  so 
you  will  let  him  stay,  won't  you,  Auntie 
Anthea?  " 

**  Why  —  Georgy —  "  she  began,  but  seeing 
her  distressed  look,  Bellew  came  to  her  rescue. 

'*  Pray  do,  Miss  Anthea,"  said  he  in  his 
quiet,  easy  manner.  **  My  name  is  Bellew,"  he 
went  on  to  explain,  **  I  am  an  American,  with- 


THE   MONEY   MOON  39 

out  family  or  friends,  here,  there  or  anywhere, 
and  with  nothing  in  the  world  to  do  but  follow 
the  path  of  the  winds.  Indeed,  I  am  rather 
a  solitary  fellow,  at  least  —  I  was,  until  I  met 
my  nephew  Porges  here.  Since  then,  I've  been 
wondering  if  there  would  be  —  er  —  room  for 
such  as  I,  at  Dapplemere?  " 

"  Oh,  there  would  be  plenty  of  room,"  said 
Anthea,  hesitating,  and  wrinkling  her  wliite 
brow,  for  a  lodger  was  something  entirely  new 
in  her  experience. 

"As  to  my  character,"  pursued  Bellew, 
"  though  something  of  a  vagabond,  I  am  not  a 
rogue,  —  at  least,  I  hope  not,  and  I  could  pay 

—  er  —  four  or  five  pounds  a  week —  " 

"  Oh!  "  exclaimed  Anthea,  with  a  little  gasp. 

* '  If  that  would  be  sufficient  —  ' ' 

**  It  is  —  a  great  deal  too  much!  "  said  An- 
thea who  would  have  scarcely  dared  to  ask 
three. 

**  Pardon  me!  —  but  I  think  not,"  said  Bel- 
lew,  shaking  his  head,  ''  you  see,  I  am  —  er  — 
rather  extravagant  in  my  eating,  —  eggs,  you 
know,  lots  of  'em,  and  ham,  and  beef,  and  —  er 

—  (a  duck  quacked  loudly  from  the  vicinity  of 
a  neighbouring  pond),  —  certainly,  —  an  occa- 
sional duf'k !  Indeed,  five  pounds  a  week  would 
scarcely  —  ' ' 


40  THE   MONEY  MOON 

*'  Three  would  be  ample!  "  said  Anthea  with 
a  little  nod  of  finality. 

"  Very  well,"  said  Bellew,  **  we'll  make  it 
four,  and  have  done  with  it." 

Anthea  Devine,  being  absolute  mistress  of 
Dapplemere,  was  in  the  habit  of  exerting  her 
authority,  and  having  her  own  way  in  most 
things ;  therefore,  she  glanced  up,  in  some  sur- 
prise, at  this  tall,  dusty,  rather  lazy  looking 
personage ;  and  she  noticed,  even  as  had  Small 
Porges,  that  he  was  indeed  very  big  and  wide ; 
she  noticed  also  that,  despite  the  easy  courtesy 
of  his  manner,  and  the  quizzical  light  of  his 
gray  eyes,  his  chin  was  very  square,  and  that, 
despite  his  gentle  voice,  he  had  the  air  of  one 
who  meant  exactly  what  he  said.  Nevertheless 
she  was  much  inclined  to  take  issue  with  him 
upon  the  matter ;  plainly  observing  which,  Bel- 
lew  smiled,  and  shook  his  head. 

**  Pray  be  reasonable,"  he  said  in  his  gentle 
voice,  '^  if  you  send  me  away  to  some  horrible 
inn  or  other,  it  will  cost  me  —  being  an  Amer- 
ican, —  more  than  that  every  week,  in  tips  and 
things,  —  so  let's  shake  hands  on  it,  and  call 
it  settled,"  and  he  held  out  his  hand  to  her. 

**  Four  pounds  a  week!  It  would  be  a  veri- 
table God-send  just  at  present,  while  she  was 
so  hard  put  to  it  to  make  both  ends  meet.    Four 


THE   MONEY   MOON  41 

pounds  a  week!  "  So  Antliea  stood,  lost  in 
frowning  thought  until  meeting  his  frank  smile, 
she  laughed. 

**  You  are  dreadfully  persistent!  "  she  said, 
*  *  and  I  know  it  is  too  much,  —  but  —  we  '11  try 
to  make  you  as  comfortable  as  we  can,"  and  she 
laid  her  hand  in  his. 

And  thus  it  was  that  George  Bellew  came  to 
Dapplemere  in  the  glory  of  the  after-glow  of 
an  August  afternoon,  breathing  the  magic  air 
of  Arcadia  wliicli  is,  and  always  has  been,  of 
that  rare  quality  warranted  to  go  to  the  head, 
sooner,  or  later. 

And  thus  it  was  that  Small  Porges  with  his 
bundle  on  his  shoulder,  viewed  this  tall,  dusty 
Uncle  with  the  eye  of  possession  which  is  oft- 
times  an  eye  of  rapture. 

And  Antheal  She  was  busy  calculating  to  a 
scrupulous  nicety  the  very  vexed  question  as 
to  exactly  how  far  four  pounds  per  week  might 
be  made  to  go  to  the  best  possible  advantage 
of  all  concerned. 


CHAPTER   VI 

Of  the  sad  condition  of  the  Haunting  Spectre 
of  the  Might  Have  Been 

Dapplemeke  Farm  House,  or  ' '  The  Manor, ' '  as 
it  was  still  called  by  many,  had  been  built  when 
Henry  the  Eighth  was  King,  as  the  carved  in- 
scription above  the  door  testified. 

The  House  of  Dapplemere  was  a  place  of 
many  gables,  and  latticed  windows,  and  with 
tall,  slender  chimneys  shaped,  and  wrought  into 
things  of  beauty  and  delight.  It  possessed  a 
great,  old  hall ;  there  were  spacious  chambers, 
and  broad  stairways ;  there  were  panelled  cor- 
lidors;  sudden  flights  of  steps  that  led  up,  or 
down  again,  for  no  apparent  reason;  there 
were  broad,  and  generous  hearths,  and  deep 
window-seats;  and  everywhere,  within,  and 
without,  there  lurked  an  indefinable,  old-world 
charm  that  was  the  heritage  of  years. 

Storms  had  buffeted,  and  tempests  had 
beaten  upon  it,  but  all  in  vain,  for,  save  that 
the  bricks  glowed  a  deeper  red  where  they 
peeped  out  beneath  the  clinging  ivy,  the  old 
house  stood  as  it  had  upon  that  far  day  when  it 


TPIE   MONEY   MOON  43 

was  fashioned,  —  in  the  Year  of  Our  Lord  One 
Thousand  Five  Hundred  and  Twenty-four. 

In  England  many  such  houses  are  j^et  to  be 
found,  monuments  of  the  **  Bad  Old  Times  "  — 
memorials  of  the  *'  Dark  Ages  "  —  when  lath 
and  stucco  existed  not,  and  the  *'  Jerry- 
builder  "  had  no  being.  But  where,  among 
them  all,  miglit  be  found  such  another  parlour 
as  this  at  Dapplemere,  with  its  low,  raftered 
ceiling,  its  great,  carved  mantel,  its  panelled 
walls  whence  old  portraits  looked  down  at  one 
like  dream  faces,  from  dim,  and  nebulous  back- 
grounds. And  where  miglit  be  found  two  such 
bright-eyed,  rosy-cheeked,  quick-footed,  deft- 
handed  Phyllises  as  the  two  buxom  maids  who 
flitted  here  and  there,  obedient  to  their  mis- 
tress's word,  or  gesture.  And,  lastly,  where,  in 
all  this  wide  world,  could  there  ever  be  found 
just  such  another  hostess  as  Miss  Anthea,  her- 
self? Something  of  all  this  was  in  Bellew's 
mind  as  he  sat  with  Small  Forges  beside  him, 
watching  Miss  Anthea  dispense  tea,  —  brewed 
as  it  should  be,  in  an  earthen  tea-pot. 

"  ^filk  and  sugar,  Mr.  Bellew?  " 

**  Thank  you!  " 

"  This  is  blackberry,  an'  this  is  raspberry 
an*  red  currant  —  but  the  blackberry  jam's  the 
best,  Uncle  Forges!  " 


44  THE   MONEY   MOON 


a 


Thank  you,  nephew." 

**  Now  aren't  you  awful'  glad  I  found  you  — 
under  that  hedge,  Uncle  Forges?  " 

' '  Nephew,  —  I  am !  " 

''  Nephew?  "  repeated  Anthea,  glancing  at 
him  with  raised  brows. 

' '  Oh  yes !  ' '  nodded  Bellew,  '  *  we  adopted 
each  other  —  at  about  four  o'clock,  this  after- 


noon." 


''  Under  a  hedge,  you  know!  "  added  Small 
Porges. 

' '  Wasn  't  it  a  very  sudden,  and  altogether  — 
unheard  of  proceeding?  "  Anthea  enquired. 

' '  Well,  it  might  have  been  if  it  had  happened 
anywhere  but  in  Arcadia." 

"  What  do  you  mean  by  Arcadia,  Uncle 
Porges?  " 

**  A  place  I've  been  looking  for  —  nearly  all 
my  life,  nephew.  I  '11  trouble  you  for  the  black- 
berry jam,  my  Porges." 

'  *  Yes,  try  the  blackberry,  —  Aunt  Priscilla 
made  it  her  very  own  self." 

''You  know  it's  perfectly  —  ridiculous!" 
said  Anthea,  frowning  and  laughing,  both  at  the 
same  time. 

''  What  is,  Miss  Anthea?  " 

<  <  Why  that  you  should  be  sitting  here  calling 
Georgy  your  nephew,  and  that  I  should  be  pour- 


THE   MONEY   MOON  45 

ing  out  tea  for  you,  quite  as  a  matter  of 
course." 

"  It  seems  to  me  the  most  delightfully  nat- 
ural thing  in  the  world,"  said  Bellew,  in  his 
slow,  grave  manner. 

''But  —  I've  only  known  you  —  half  an 
hour —  !  " 

"But  then,  friendships  ripen  quickly  —  in 
Arcadia." 

"  I  wonder  what  Aunt  Priscilla  will  have  to 
say  about  it !  " 

"Aunt  Priscilla?  " 

"  She  is  our  housekeeper,  —  the  dearest, 
busiest,  gentlest  little  housekeeper  in  all  the 
world;  but  with  —  very  sharp  eyes,  Mr.  Bel- 
lew.  She  will  either  like  you  very  much,  —  or 
^-  not  at  all !  there  are  no  half  measures  about 
Aunt  Priscilla." 

**  Now  I  wonder  which  it  will  be,"  said  Bel- 
lew,  helping  himself  to  more  jam. 

"Oh,  she'll  like  you,  a  course!"  nodded 
Small  Porges,  "  I  know  she'll  like  you  'cause 
you're  so  different  to  Mr.  Cassilis,  —  he's  got 
black  hair,  an'  a  mestache,  you  know,  an'  your 
hair's  gold,  like  mine,  —  an'  your  mestache  — 
isn't  there,  is  it?  An'  I  know  she  doesn't  like 
Mr.  Cassilis,  an'  T  don't,  either,  'cause  — " 

"  She  will  be  back  to-morrow,"  said  Anthea, 


46  THE   MONEY  MOON 

silencing  Small  Porges  with  a  gentle  touch  of 
her  hand,  *'  and  we  shall  be  glad,  sha'n't  we, 
Georgy?  The  house  is  not  the  same  place  with- 
out her.  You  see,  I  am  off  in  the  fields  all  day, 
as  a  rule ;  a  farm,  —  even  such  a  small  one  as 
Dapplemere,  is  a  great  responsibility,  and  takes 
up  all  one's  time  —  if  it  is  to  be  made  to 
pay—  " 

"  An'  sometimes  it  doesn't  pay  at  all,  you 
know!  "  added  Small  Porges,  **  an'  then  Auntie 
Anthea  worries,  an'  I  worry  too.  Farming 
isn't  what  it  was  in  Adam's  young  days,  —  so 
that's  why  I  must  find  a  fortune  —  early  to- 
morrow morning,  you  know,  —  so  my  Auntie 
won 't  have  to  worry  any  more  —  ' ' 

Now  when  he  had  got  thus  far,  Anthea  leaned 
over,  and,  taking  him  by  surprise,  kissed  Small 
Porges  suddenly. 

*'  It  was  very  good,  and  brave  of  you,  dear," 
said  she  in  her  soft,  thrilling  voice,  *  *  to  go  out 
all  alone  into  this  big  world  to  try  and  find  a 
fortune  for  me!  "  and  here  she  would  have 
kissed  him  again  but  that  he  reminded  her  that 
they  were  not  alone. 

**  But,  Georgy  dear,  —  fortunes  are  very 
hard  to  find,  —  especially  round  Dapplemere, 
I'm  afraid!  "  said  she,  with  a  rueful  little 
laugh. 


THE   MONEY   MOON  47 

**  Yes,  that's  why  I  was  going  to  Africa,  you 
know." 

*  *  Africa !  ' '  she  repeated,  '  *  Africa !  ' ' 

*'  Oh  yes,"  nodded  Bellew, ''  when  I  met  him 
he  was  on  his  way  there  to  bring  back  gold  for 
you  —  in  a  sack." 

''  Only  Uncle  Porges  said  it  was  a  good-ish 
■way  off,  you  know,  so  I  'cided  to  stay  an'  find 
the  fortune  nearer  home." 

And  thus  they  talked  unaffectedly  together 
until,  tea  being  over,  Antliea  volunteered  to 
show  Bellew  over  her  small  domain,  and  they 
went  out,  all  three,  into  an  evening  that 
breathed  of  roses,  and  honeysuckle. 

And,  as  they  went,  slow-footed  through  the 
deepening  twilight,  Small  Porges  directed  Bel- 
lew's  attention  to  certain  nooks  and  corners 
that  might  be  well  calculated  to  conceal  the 
fortune  they  were  to  find ;  while  Anthea  pointed 
out  to  him  the  beauties  of  shady  wood,  of  roll- 
ing meadow,  and  winding  stream. 

But  there  were  other  beauties  that  neither  of 
them  thought  to  call  to  his  attention,  but  which 
Bellew  noted  with  observing  eyes,  none  the  less : 
—  such,  for  instance,  as  the  way  Anthea  had  of 
drooping  her  shadowy  lashes  at  sudden  and  un- 
expected moments;  the  wistful  droop  of  lier 
warm,  red  lips,  and  the  sweet,  round  column  of 


48  THE   MONEY   MOON 

her  throat.  These,  and  much  beside,  Bellew 
noticed  for  himself  as  they  walked  on  together 
through  this  midsummer  evening.  .  .  .  And  so, 
betimes,  Bellew  got  him  to  bed,  and,  though  the 
hour  was  ridiculously  early,  yet  he  fell  into  a 
profound  slumber,  and  dreamed  of  —  nothing 
at  all.  But,  far  away  upon  the  road,  forgotten, 
and  out  of  mind,  —  with  futile  writhing  and 
grimaces,  the  Haunting  Shadow  of  the  Might 
Have  Been  jibbered  in  the  shadows. 


CHAPTER   VII 

JVJiich   concerns   itself  among   other  matters, 
with''  the  Old  Adam  " 

Bellew  awakened  early  next  morning,  which 
was  an  unusual  thing  for  Bellew  to  do  under 
ordinary  circumstances  since  he  was  one  who 
held  with  that  poet  who  has  written,  somewhere 
or  other,  something  to  the  following  effect: 

**  God  bless  the  man  who  first  discovered 
sleep.  But  damn  the  man  with  curses  loud,  and 
deep,  who  first  invented  —  early  rising.'* 

Nevertheless,  Bellew,  (as  has  been  said), 
awoke  early  next  morning,  to  find  the  sun  pour- 
ing in  at  his  window,  and  making  a  glory  all 
about  him.  But  it  was  not  this  that  had 
roused  him,  he  thought  as  he  lay  blinking 
drowsily,  —  nor  the  black-bird  piping  so  won- 
derfully in  tlie  apple-tree  outside,  —  a  very  in- 
quisitive apple-tree  that  had  writhed,  and  con- 
torted itself  most  un-naturally  in  its  efforts 
to  peep  in  at  the  window ;  —  therefore  Bellew 
fell  to  wondering,  sleepily  enough,  what  it 
could  have  been.  Presently  it  came  again,  the 
sound,  —  a    very    peculiar    sound    the    like    of 


50  THE   MONEY   MOON 

whicli  Bellew  had  never  heard  before,  wMcli, 
as  he  listened,  gradually  evolved  itself  into  a 
kind  of  monotonous  chant,  intoned  by  a  voice 
deep,  and  harsh,  yet  withal,  not  unmusical. 
Now  the  words  of  the  chant  were  these: 

"  When  I  am  dead,  diddle,  diddle,  as  well  may  hap, 
Bury  me  deep,  diddle,  diddle,  under  the  tap, 
Under  the  tap,  diddle,  diddle,  I'll  tell  you  why, 
That  I  may  drink,  diddle,  diddle,  when  I  am  dry.  " 

Hereupon,  Bellew  rose,  and  crossing  to  the 
open  casement  leaned  out  into  the  golden 
freshness  of  the  morning.  Looking  about  he 
presently  espied  the  singer,  —  one  who  carried 
two  pails  suspended  from  a  yoke  upon  his 
shoulders,  —  a  very  square  man ;  that  is  to  say, 
square  of  shoulder,  square  of  head,  and  square 
of  jaw,  being,  in  fact,  none  other  than  the 
Waggoner  with  whom  he  had  fought,  and  rid- 
den on  the  previous  afternoon;  seeing  which, 
Bellew  hailed  him  in  cheery  greeting.  The 
man  glanced  up,  and,  breaking  off  his  song  in 
the  middle  of  a  note,  stood  gazing  at  Bellew, 
open-mouthed. 

*'  What,  —  be  that  you,  sir?  "  he  enquired, 
at  last,  and  then,  —  ^*  Lord!  an'  what  be  you 
a  doing  of  up  theer?  " 

**  Why,  sleeping,  of  course,"  answered  Bel- 
lew. 


THE   MONEY   MOON  51 

* '  Wot  —  agaiu !  ' '  exclaimed  the  Waggoner 
with  a  grin,  *'  you  do  be  for  ever  a-sleepin'  I 
do  believe !  ' ' 

**  Not  when  you're  anywhere  about  I  " 
laughed  Bellew. 

''  Was  it  me  as  woke  ye  then?  '* 

**  Your  singing  did." 

*  *  My  singin ' !  Lord  love  ye,  an '  well  it 
might !  My  singin '  would  wake  the  dead,  — 
leastways  so  Prudence  says,  an'  she's  generally 
right,  —  leastways,  if  she  ain't,  she's  a  un- 
common good  cook,  an'  that  goes  a  long  way 
wi'  most  of  us.  But  I  don't  sing  very  often 
unless  I  be  alone,  or  easy  in  my  mind  an' 
'appy- 'carted,  —  which  I  ain't." 

**  No?  "  enquired  Bellew. 

"Not  by  no  manner  o'  means,  I  ain't, — 
contrari-wise  my  'eart  be  sore  an'  full  o'  gloom, 
—  which  ain't  to  be  wondered  at,  nohow." 

"  And  yet  you  were  singing." 

'*  Aye,  for  sure  I  were  singin',  but  then  who 
could  help  singin'  on  such  a  mornin'  as  this  be, 
an'  wi'  the  black-bird  a-piping  away  in  the  tree 
here.  Oh!  I  were  singin',  I  don't  go  for  to 
deny  it,  but  it's  sore  'earted  I  be,  an'  filled  wi* 
gloom  sir,  notwithstanding." 

"  You  mean,"  said  Bellew,  becoming  sud- 
denly thouglitful,  *'  that  you  are  haunted  by  the 


52  THE   MONEY   MOON 

CarHng  Spectre  of  the  —  er  Might  Have 
Been?  " 

"Lord  bless  you,  no  sir!  This  ain't  no 
spectre,  nor  yet  no  skellington,  —  which,  arter 
all,  is  only  old  bones  an'  such,  —  no  this  ain't 
nothin'  of  that  sort,  an'  no  more  it  ain't 
a  thing  as  I  can  stand  'ere  a  maggin'  about  wi' 
a  long  day's  work  afore  me,  axing  your  pardon, 
sir."  Saying  which,  the  Waggoner  nodded 
suddenly  and  strode  off  with  his  pails  clanking 
cheerily. 

Very  soon  Bellew  was  shaved,  and  dressed, 
and  going  down  stairs  he  let  himself  out  into 
the  early  sunshine,  and  strolled  away  towards 
the  farm-yard  where  cocks  crew,  cows  lowed, 
ducks  quacked,  turkeys  and  geese  gobbled  and 
hissed,  and  where  the  Waggoner  moved  to 
and  fro  among  them  all,  like  a  presiding 
genius. 

"  I  think,"  said  Bellew,  as  he  came  up,  "  I 
think  you  must  be  the  Adam  I  have  heard  of. ' ' 

*'  That  be  my  name,  sir." 

"  Then  Adam,  fill  your  pipe,"  and  Bellew  ex- 
tended his  pouch,  whereupon  Adam  thanked 
him,  and  fishing  a  small,  short,  black  clay  from 
his  pocket,  proceeded  to  fill,  and  light  it. 

"  Yes  sir,"  he  nodded,  inhaling  the  tobacco 
iwith  much  apparent  enjoyment,  **  Adam  I  were 


THE   MONEY   MOON  63 

baptized  some  thirty  odd  year  ago,  but  I  gen- 
erally calls  myself  *  Old  Adam.'  " 

*'  But  you're  not  old,  Adam." 

"  Why,  it  ain't  on  account  o'  my  age,  ye  see 
sir,  —  it  be  all  because  o'  the  Old  Adam  as  is 
inside  o'  me.  Lord  love  ye!  I  am  nat 'rally 
that  full  o '  the  '  Old  Adam  '  as  never  was.  An  ^ 
*e's  alway  a  up  an'  taking  of  me  at  the  shortest 
notice.  Only  t'other  day  he  up  an'  took  me 
because  Job  Jagway  ( 'e  works  for  Squire  Cas- 
silis,  you'll  understand  sir)  because  Job  Jag- 
way  sez  as  our  wheat,  (meanin'  Miss  Anthea's- 
wheat,  you'll  imderstand  sir)  was  mouldy; 
well,  the  *'  Old  Adam  '  up  an'  took  me  to  that 
extent,  sir,  that  they  'ad  to  carry  Job  Jagway 
home,  arterwards.  Wliich  is  all  on  account  o* 
the  Old  Adam,  —  me  being  the  mildest  chap 
you  ever  see,  nat 'rally,  —  mild?  ah!  sucking- 
doves  wouldn't  be  nothin'  to  me  for  mildness.'^ 

* '  And  what  did  the  Squire  have  to  say  about 
your  spoiling  his  man?  " 

''Wrote  to  Miss  Antliea,  o'  course,  sir, — 
he's  always  writing  to  Miss  Anthea  about 
summat  or  other,  —  sez  as  how  he  was  minded 
to  lock  me  up  for  'sault  an'  battery,  but,  out 
o'   respect  for  her,  would  let  me   off,  wi'  a 


warninir. " 


«( 


Miss  Anthea  was  worried,  I  suppose?  "■ 


54  THE   MONEY   MOON 

'*  Worried,  sir!  *  Oh  Adam!  '  sez  she,  '  Oh 
Adam!  'aven't  I  got  enough  to  bear  but  you 
must  make  it  'arder  for  me?  '  An'  I  see  the 
tears  in  her  eyes  while  she  said  it.  Me  make 
it  'arder  for  her!  Jest  as  if  I  wouldn't  make 
things  lighter  for  'er  if  I  could,  —  which  I 
can't;  jest  as  if,  to  help  Miss  Anthea,  I 
wouldn't  let  'em  take  me  an'  —  well,  never 
mind  what,  —  only  I  would!  " 

**  Yes,  I'm  sure  you  would,"  nodded  Bellew. 
**■  And  is  the  Squire  over  here  at  Dapplemere 
very  often,  Adam?  " 

*'  "Why,  not  so  much  lately,  sir.  Last  time 
were  yesterday,  jest  afore  Master  Georgy  come 
'ome.  I  were  at  work  here  in  the  yard,  an' 
Squire  comes  riding  up  to  me,  smiling  quite 
friendly  like,  —  which  were  pretty  good  of  him, 
considering  as  Job  Jagway  ain't  back  to  work 
yet.  '  Oh  Adam!  '  sez  he,  *  so  you're  'aving  a 
sale  here  at  Dapplemere,  are  you?  '  Meaning 
sir,  a  sale  of  some  bits,  an'  sticks  o'  furnitur'  as 
Miss  Anthea 's  forced  to  part  wi'  to  meet  some 
bill  or  other.  *  Summat  o'  that  sir,'  says  I, 
making  as  light  of  it  as  I  could.  '  Why  then, 
Adam,'  sez  he,  *  if  Job  Jagway  should  'appen 
to  come  over  to  buy  a  few  o '  the  things,  —  no 
more  fighting!  '  sez  he.  An'  so  he  nods,  an' 
smiles,  an'  off  he  rides.    An'  sir,  as  I  watched 


THE   MONEY   MOON  53 

liim  go,  the  '  Old  Adam  '  riz  up  in  me  to  that 
extent  as  it's  a  mercy  I  didn't  have  no  pitch- 
fork 'andy." 

Bellew,  sitting  on  the  shaft  of  a  cart  with  his 
back  against  a  rick,  listened  to  this  narration 
with  an  air  of  dreamy  abstraction,  but  Adam's 
quick  eyes  noticed  that  despite  the  unruflfled 
serenity  of  his  brow,  his  chin  seemed  rather 
more  prominent  than  usual. 

**  So  that  was  why  you  were  feeling  gloomy, 
was  it,  Adam?  " 

"Ah!  an'  enough  to  make  any  man  feel 
gloomy,  I  should  think.  Miss  Anthea's  brave 
enough,  but  I  reckon  'twill  come  nigh  breakin' 
*er  'eart  to  see  the  old  stuff  sold,  the  furnitur' 
an'  that,  —  so  she's  goin'  to  drive  over  to 
Cranbrook  to  be  out  o'  the  way  while  it's 
a-doin'." 

**  And  when  does  the  sale  take  place?  " 

"  The  Saturday  arter  next,  sir,  as  ever  was,'* 
Adam  answered.  "But  —  hush,  —  mum's  the 
word,  sir!  "  he  broke  off,  and  winking  violently 
with  a  side-ways  motion  of  the  head,  he  took 
up  his  pitch-fork.  AVlierefore,  glancing  round, 
Bellew  saw  Anthea  coming  towards  them,  fresh 
and  sweet  as  the  morning.  Her  hands  were 
full  of  flowers,  and  she  carried  her  sun-bonnet 
upon  her  arm.     Here  and  there  a  rebellious 


56  THE   MONEY  MOON 

«url  had  escaped  from  its  fastenings  as  thongli 
desirous  (and  very  naturally)  of  kissing  the 
«oft  oval  of  her  cheek,  or  the  white  curve  of 
her  neck.  And  among  them  Bellew  noticed  one 
in  particular,  —  a  roguish  curl  that  glowed  in 
the  sun  with  a  coppery  light,  and  peeped  at 
him  wantonly  above  her  ear. 

' '  Good  morning !  ' '  said  he,  rising  and,  to  all 
appearance,  addressing  the  curl  in  question, 
*'  *  you  are  early  abroad  this  morning !  ' ' 

''Early,  Mr.  Bellew!  —  why  IVe  been  up 
hours.  I'm  generally  out  at  four  o'clock  on 
market  days ;  we  work  hard,  and  long,  at  Dap- 
plemere,"  she  answered,  giving  him  her  hand 
with  her  grave,  sweet  smile. 

"Aye,  for  sure!"  nodded  Adam,  *' but 
farmin'  ain't  what  it  was  in  my  young  days!  " 

' '  But  I  think  we  shall  do  well  with  the  hops, 
Adam. ' ' 

'*  'Ops,  Miss  Anthea,  —  lord  love  you!  — 
there  ain't  no  'ops  nowhere  so  good  as  ourn 
be!  " 

**  They  ought  to  be  ready  for  picking,  soon, 
—  do  you  think  sixty  people  will  be  enough?  " 

"Ah!  —  they'll  be  more'n  enough,  Miss 
Anthea.'* 

"  And,  Adam  —  the  five-acre  field  should  be 
mowed  to-day." 


THE   MONEY   MOON  57 

**  I'll  set  the  men  at  it  right  arter  breakfast, 
—  I'll  'ave  it  done,  trust  me,  Miss  Anthea." 

* '  I  do,  Adam,  —  you  know  that !  ' '  And  with 
a  smiling  nod  she  turned  away.  Now,  as  Bel- 
lew  walked  on  beside  her,  he  felt  a  strange 
constraint  upon  him  such  as  he  had  never  ex- 
perienced towards  any  woman  before,  and  the 
which  he  was  at  great  pains  with  himself  to 
accoimt  for.  Indeed  so  rapt  was  he,  that  he 
started  suddenly  to  find  that  she  was  asking 
him  a  question : 

''  Do  you  —  like  Dapplemere,  Mr.  Bellew?  '* 

''  Like  it!  "  he  repeated,  '*  like  it?  Yes  in- 
deed! " 

''I'm  so  glad!  "  she  answered,  her  eyes 
glowing  with  pleasure.  **  It  was  a  much 
larger  property,  once, —  Look!  "  and  she 
pointed  away  across  corn-fields  and  rolling 
meadow  to  the  distant  woods.  '*  In  my  grand- 
father's time  it  was  all  his  —  as  far  as  you  can 
see,  and  farther,  but  it  has  dwindled  since  then, 
and  to-day,  my  Dapplemere  is  very  small  in- 
deed.'» 

"  You  must  be  very  fond  of  such  a  beautiful 
place." 

'*  Oh,  I  love  it!  "  she  cried  passionately,  '*  if 
ever  I  had  to  —  give  it  up,  —  I  think  I  should  — 
die!"     She  stopped  suddenly,  and  as  though 


58  THE   MONEY  MOON 

somewhat  abashed  by  this  sudden  outburst, 
adding  in  a  lighter  tone :  *  *  If  I  seem  rather 
tragic  it  is  because  this  is  the  only  home  I  have 
ever  known." 

**  Well,"  said  Bellew,  appearing  rather 
more  dreamy  than  usual,  just  then,  **  I  have 
journeyed  here  and  there  in  this  world  of  ours, 
I  have  wandered  up  and  down,  and  to  and  fro 
in  it,  —  like  a  certain  celebrated  personage  who 
shall  be  nameless,  —  yet  I  never  saw,  or 
dreamed,  of  any  such  place  as  this  Dapplemere 
of  yours.  It  is  like  Arcadia  itself,  and  only  I 
am  out  of  place.  I  seem,  somehow,  to  be  too 
common-place,  and  altogether  matter-of-fact." 

"I'm  sure  I'm  matter-of-fact  enough,"  she 
said,  with  her  low,  sweet  laugh  that,  Bellew 
thought,  was  all  too  rare. 

"  You?  "  said  he,  and  shook  his  head. 

**  Well?  "  she  enquired,  glancing  at  him 
through  her  wind-tossed  curls. 

*'  You  are  like  some  fair,  and  stately  ladye 
out  of  the  old  romances, ' '  he  said  gravely. 

*'  In  a  print  gown,  and  with  a  sun-bonnet!  " 

**  Even  so!  "  he  nodded.  Here,  for  no  ap- 
parent reason,  happening  to  meet  his  glance, 
the  colour  deepened  in  her  cheek  and  she  was 
silent;  wherefore  Bellew  went  oi:,  in  his  slow, 
placid  tones.     **  You  surely,  are  the  Princess 


THE    MONEY   MOON  59 

ruling  this  fair  land  of  Arcadia,  and  I  am  the 
Stranger  within  your  gates.  It  behoves  you, 
therefore,  to  be  merciful  to  this  Stranger,  if 
only  for  the  sake  of  —  er  —  our  mutual 
nephew. ' ' 

"Whatever  Anthea  might  have  said  in  answer 
was  cut  short  by  Small  Porges  himself  who 
came  galloping  towards  them  with  the  sun 
bright  in  his  curls. 

*  *  Oh,  Uncle  Porges !  "he  panted  as  he  came 
up,  '*  I  was  'fraid  you'd  gone  away  an'  left  me, 
• — I've  been  hunting,  an'  hunting  for  you  ever 
since  I  got  up." 

"  No,  I  haven't  gone  away  yet,  my  Porges, 
you  see." 

*  *  An '  you  won 't  go  —  ever  or  ever,  will 
you?  " 

'*  That,"  said  Bellew,  taking  the  small  hand 
in  his,  ''  that  is  a  question  that  we  had  better 
leave  to  the  —  er  —  future,  nephew. ' ' 

"  But  — why?  " 

"  "Well,  you  see,  it  doesn't  rest  with  me  — 
altogether,  my  Porges." 

*'  Then  wlio —  "  he  was  beginning,  but  An- 
thea's  soft  voice  interrupted  him. 

"  Georgy  dear,  didn't  Prudence  send  you  to 
t'.ll  us  that  breakfast  was  ready?  " 

"  Oh  yes!    I  was  forgetting,  —  awfull'  silly 


60  THE   MONEY   MOON 

of  me  wasn  't  it !  But  yon  are  going  to  stay  — ^ 
Oh  a  long,  long  time,  aren't  you.  Uncle 
Porges?  " 

''  I  sincerely  hope  so!  "  answered  Bellew. 
Now  as  he  spoke,  his  eyes,  —  by  the  merest 
chance  in  the  world,  of  course,  —  happened  to 
meet  Anthea's,  whereupon  she  turned,  and 
slipped  on  her  sunbonnet  which  was  very  nat- 
ural, for  the  sun  was  growing  hot  already. 

''I'm  awful'  glad!  "  sighed  Small  Porges, 
*'  an'  Auntie's  glad  too,  —  aren't  you 
Auntie?  " 

*  *  Why  —  of  course !  ' '  from  the  depths  of 
the  sunbonnet. 

**  'Cause  now,  you  see,  there'll  be  two  of  us 
to  take  care  of  you.  Uncle  Porges  is  so  ni^^e 
an'  big,  and  —  wide,  isn't  he.  Auntie?  " 

*  *  Y-e-s,  —  Oh  Georgy !  —  what  are  you  talk- 
ing about?  " 

<<  Why  I  mean  I'm  rather  small  to  take  care 
of  you  all  by  myself  alone,  Auntie,  though  I  do 
my  best  of  course.  But  now  that  I've  found 
myself  a  big,  tall  Uncle  Porges,  ^ — under  the 
hedge,  you  know,  —  we  can  take  care  of  you  to- 
gether, can't  we.  Auntie  Anthea?  " 

But  Anthea  only  hurried  on  without  speak- 
ing, whereupon  Small  Porges  continued  all 
unheeding : 


THE   MONEY  MOON  61 

**  You  'member  the  other  night,  Auntie,  when 
you  were  crying,  you  said  you  wished  you  had 
some  one  very  big,  and  strong  to  take  care  of 
you —  " 

**  Oh  — Georgy!  " 

Bellew  heartily  wished  that  sunbonnets  had 
never  been  thought  of. 

**  But  you  did  you  know.  Auntie,  an'  so  that 
was  why  I  went  out  an'  found  my  Uncle  Porges 
for  you,  —  so  that  he —  " 

But  here.  Mistress  Anthea,  for  all  her  pride 
and  stateliness,  catching  her  gown  about  her, 
fairly  ran  on  down  the  path  and  never  paused 
until  she  had  reached  the  cool,  dim  parlour. 
Being  there,  she  tossed  aside  her  sunbonnet, 
and  looked  at  herself  in  the  long,  old  mirror, 
and,  —  though  surely  no  mirror  made  by  man, 
ever  reflected  a  fairer  vision  of  dark-eyed 
witchery  and  loveliness,  nevertheless  Anthea 
stamped  her  foot,  and  frowned  at  it. 

**  Oh!  "  she  exclaimed,  and  then  again,  ''  Oh 
Georgy!  "  and  covered  her  burning  cheeks. 

Meanwhile  Big  Porges,  and  Small  Porges, 
walking  along  hand  in  hand  shook  their  h:  .-ds 
solemnly,  wondering  much  upon  the  capricious- 
ness  of  aunts,  and  the  waywardness  thereof. 

"  I  wonder  why  she  runned  away,  Uncle 
Porges?  " 


62  THE   MONEY  MOON 

*  *  Ah,  I  wonder !  ' ' 

''  'Specks  she's  a  bit  angry  with  me,  you 
know,  'cause  I  told  you  she  was  crying." 

**  Hum!  "  said  Belle w. 

**  An  Auntie  takes  an  awful  lot  of  looking 
after !  ' '  sighed  Small  Porges. 

*' Yes,"  nodded  Bellew,  *' I  suppose  so, — 
especially  if  she  happens  to  be  young,  and  — 
er —  " 

**  An'  what.  Uncle  Porges?  " 

*'  Beautiful,  nephew." 

**  Oh!  Do  you  think  she's  —  really  beauti- 
ful? "  demanded  Small  Porges. 

**  I'm  afraid  I  do,"  Bellew  confessed. 

"  So  does  Mr.  Cassilis,  —  I  heard  him  tell 
her  so  once  —  in  the  orchard." 

''Hum!  "  said  Bellew. 

**  Ah!  but  you  ought  to  see  her  when  she 
comes  to  tuck  me  up  at  night,  with  her  hair  all 
down,  an '  hanging  all  about  her  —  like  a  shiny 
cloak,  you  know." 

*' Hum!  "said  Bellew. 

**  Please  Uncle  Porges,"  said  Georgy,  turn- 
ing to  look  up  at  him,  *'  what  makes  you  hum 
BO  much  this  morning?  " 

**  I  was  thinking,  my  Porges." 

**  'Bout  my  Auntie  Anthea?  " 

"  I  do  admit  the  soft  impeachment,  sir.'* 


THE   MONEY   MOON  63 

*' Well,  I'm  thiuking  too." 

*'  TVhatis  it,  old  chap?  " 

*'  I'm  thinking  we  ought  to  begin  to  find  that 
fortune  for  her  after  breakfast." 

**  Why,  it  isn't  quite  the  right  season  for 
fortune  hunting,  yet  —  at  least,  not  in  Ar- 
cadia," answered  Bellew,  shaking  his  head. 

*'  Oh!  — but  why  not?  " 

**  Well,  the  moon  isn't  right,  for  one  thing." 

*'  The  moon!  "  echoed  Small  Porges. 

'*  Oh  yes,  —  we  must  wait  for  a  —  er  —  a 
Money  Moon,  you  know,  —  surely  you've  heard 
of  a  Money  Moon?  " 

**  'Fraid  not,"  sighed  Small  Porges  regret- 
fully, "  but  —  I've  heard  of  a  Honey-moon  —  " 

**  Tliey're  often  much  the  same!  "  nodded 
Bellew." 

'*  But  when  will  the  Money  Moon  come,  an' 
—  how?  " 

**  I  can't  exactly  say,  my  Porges,  but  come 
it  will  one  of  these  fine  nights.  And  when  it 
does  we  shall  know  that  the  fortune  is  close 
by,  and  waiting  to  be  found.  So,  don't  worry 
your  small  head  about  it,  —  just  keep  your  eye 
on  your  uncle." 

Betimes  they  came  in  to  breakfast  where  An- 
thea  awaited  them  at  the  head  of  the  table. 
Then   who   so   demure,   so  gracious   and   self- 


64  THE   MONEY  MOON 

possessed,  so  sweetly  sedate  as  she.  But  the 
Cavalier  in  the  picture  above  the  carved  man- 
tel, versed  in  the  ways  of  the  world,  and  the 
pretty  tricks  and  wiles  of  the  Beau  Sex  Femi- 
nine, smiled  down  at  Bellew  with  an  expression 
of  such  roguish  waggery  as  said  plain  as 
words ;  * '  We  know !  ' '  And  Bellew,  remember- 
ing a  certain  pair  of  slender  ankles  that  had  re- 
vealed themselves  in  their  hurried  flight,  smiled 
back  at  the  cavalier,  and  it  was  all  he  could  do 
to  refrain  from  winking  outright. 


CHAPTER   VIII 

Which  tells  of  Miss  Priscilla,  of  peaches,  and 
of  Sergeant  Appleby  late  of  the  19th  Hussars 

Sm.\ll  Porges  was  at  his  lessons.  He  was 
perched  at  the  great  oak  table  beside  the  win- 
dow, pen  in  hand,  and  within  easy  reach  of 
Anthea  who  sat  busied  with  her  daily  letters 
and  accounts.  Small  Porges  was  laboriously 
inscribing  in  a  somewhat  splashed  and  be- 
smeared copy-book  the  rather  surprising  facts 
that: 

A  stitch  in  time,  saves   nine.  9. 

That: 

The  Tagus,  a  river  in  Spain.  R. 

and  that: 

Artaxerxes  was  a  king  of  the  Persians.  A. 

and  the  like  surprising,  curious,  and  interest- 
ing items  of  news,  his  pen  making  not  half 
so  many  curls,  and  twists  as  did  his  small,  red 
tongue.  As  he  wrote,  he  frowned  terrifically, 
and  sighed  oft  betwixt  whiles;  and  Bellew 
watching,  where  ho  stood  outside  the  window, 
noticed  that  Anthea  frowned  also,  as  she  bent 


66  THE   MONEY   MOON 

over  her  accounts,  and  sighed  wearily  more 
than  once. 

It  was  after  a  sigh  rather  more  hopeless  than 
usual  that,  chancing  to  raise  her  eyes  they  en- 
countered those  of  the  watcher  outside,  who, 
seeing  himself  discovered,  smiled,  and  came  to 
lean  in  at  the  open  window. 

**  Won't  they  balance?  "  he  enquired,  with 
a  nod  toward  the  heap  of  bills,  and  papers  be- 
fore her. 

"  Oh  yes,"  she  answered  with  a  rueful  little 
smile,  * '  but  —  on  the  wrong  side,  if  you  know 
what  I  mean. ' ' 

*'  I  know,"  he  nodded,  watching  how  her 
lashes  curled  against  her  cheek. 

*'  If  only  we  had  done  better  with  our  first 
crop  of  wheat!  "  she  sighed. 

' '  Job  Jagway  said  it  was  mouldy,  you  know, 
—  that's  why  Adam  punched  him  in  the  —  " 

*  *  Georgy,  —  go  on  with  your  work,  sir !  " 

' '  Yes,  Auntie !  ' '  And  immediately  Small 
Porges'  pen  began  to  scratch,  and  his  tongue 
to  writhe  and  twist  as  before. 

"I'm  building  all  my  hopes,  this  year,  on  the 
hops,"  said  Anthea,  sinking  her  head  upon  her 
hand,  ' '  if  they  should  fail  —  ' ' 

"  Well?  "  enquired  Bellew,  with  his  gaze 
upon  the  soft  curve  of  her  throat. 


THE    MONEY   MOON  67 

*'  I  — daren't  think  of  it!  " 

"  Then  don't  —  let  us  talk  of  something 
else —  " 

**  Yes,  —  of  Aunt  Priscilla!  "  nodded  An- 
thea,  "  she  is  in  the  garden." 

**  And  pray  who  is  Aunt  Priscilla?  " 

**  Go  and  meet  her." 

''  But—" 

*'  Go  and  find  her  —  in  the  orchard!  "  re- 
peated Anthea,  "  Oh  do  go,  and  leave  us  to  our 
work." 

Thus  it  was  that  turning  obediently  into  the 
orchard,  and  looking  about,  Bellew  presently 
espied  a  little,  bright-eyed  old  lady  who  sat  be- 
neath the  shadow  of  "  King  Arthur  "  with  a 
rustic  table  beside  her  upon  whicli  stood  a 
basket  of  sewing.  Now,  as  he  went,  he  chanced 
to  spy  a  ball  of  worsted  that  had  fallen  by  the 
way,  and  stooping,  therefore,  he  picked  it  up, 
while  she  watched  him  with  her  quick,  bright 
eves. 

"  Good  morning,  Mr.  Bellow!  "  she  said  in 
response  to  his  saluiaiion,  *'  it  was  nice  of  you 
to  trouble  to  pick  up  an  old  woman's  ball  of 
worsted."  As  she  spoke,  she  rose,  and  dropped 
him  a  courtesy,  and  then,  as  he  looked  at  her 
again,  he  saw  that  despite  her  words,  and  de- 
spite her  white  hair,  she  was  much  younger, 
and  prettier  than  he  had  thought. 


68  THE   MONEY  MOON 


a 


I  am  Miss  Anthea's  house-keeper,"  she 
went  on,  ' '  I  was  away  when  you  arrived,  look- 
ing after  one  of  Miss  Anthea  's  old  ladies,  — 
pray  be  seated.  Miss  Anthea,  —  bless  her  dear 
heart!  —  calls  me  her  aunt,  but  I'm  not  really 
—  Oh  dear  no !  I  'm  no  relation  at  all !  But  I  Ve 
lived  with  her  long  enough  to  feel  as  if  I  was 
her  aunt,  and  her  uncle,  and  her  father,  and 
her  mother  —  all  rolled  into  one,  —  though  I 
should  be  rather  small  to  be  so  many, — 
shouldn't  I?"  and  she  laughed  so  gaily,  and  un- 
affectedly, that  Belle w  laughed  too. 

**  I  tell  you  all  this,"  she  went  on,  keeping 
pace  to  her  flying  needle,  *'  because  I  have 
taken  a  fancy  to  you  —  on  the  spot !  I  always 
like,  or  dislike  a  person  —  on  the  spot,  —  first 
impressions  you  know!  Y-e-e-s,"  she  con- 
tinued, glancing  up  at  him  side-ways,  **  I  like 
you  just  as  much  as  I  dis-like  Mr.  Cassilis, — 
heigho!  how  I  do  —  detest  that  man!  There, 
now  that 's  off  my  mind !  ' ' 

**  And  why?  "  enquired  Bellew,  smiling. 

*  *  Dear  me,  Mr.  Bellew !  —  how  should  I 
know,  only  I  do,  —  and  what's  more  —  he 
knows  it  too!  And  how,"  she  enquired,  chan- 
ging the  subject  abruptly,  *  *  how  is  your  bed,  — 
comfortable,  mm?  " 

'*  Very!  " 


THE   MONEY   MOON  69 

*'  You  sleep  well?  '* 

**  Like  a  top!  " 

*'  Any  complaints,  so  far?  " 

"  None  whatever,"  laughed  Bellew,  shaking 
his  head. 

"  That  is  very  well.  We  have  never  had  a 
boarder  before,  and  Miss  Anthea,  —  bless  her 
dear  soul !  was  a  little  nervous  about  it.  And 
here's  the  Sergeant!  " 

"  I  —  or  —  beg  your  pardon — ?  "  said  Bel- 
lew. 

**  The  Sergeant!"  repeated  Miss  Priscilla, 
with  a  prim  little  nod,  **  Sergeant  Appleby,  late 
of  the  Nineteenth  Plussars,  —  a  soldier  every 
inch  of  him,  Mr.  Bellew,  —  with  one  arm  — 
over  there  by  the  peaches."  Glancing  in  the 
direction  she  indicated,  Bellew  observed  a  tall 
figure,  very  straight  and  upright,  clad  in  a 
tight-fitting  blue  coat,  with  extremely  tight 
trousers  strapped  beneath  the  insteps,  and  with 
a  hat  balanced  upon  his  close-cropped,  grizzled 
head  at  a  perfectly  impossible  angle  for  any 
save  an  ex-cavalry-man.  Now  as  he  stood 
examining  a  peach-troe  that  flourished  against 
the  opposite  wall,  Bellew  saw  that  his  right 
sleeve  was  empty,  sure  enough,  and  was  looped 
across  his  broad  chest. 

"  The  very  first  thing  he  will  say  will  be  that 


70  THE  MONEY  MOON 

*  it  is  a  very  fine  day,'  "  nodded  Miss  Priscilla, 
stitching  away  faster  than  ever, ' '  and  the  next, 
that  '  the  peaches  are  doing  remarkably  well,' 
—  now  mark  my  words,  Mr.  Belle w."  As  she 
spoke,  the  Sergeant  wheeled  suddenly  right 
about  face,  and  came  striding  down  towards 
them,  jingling  imaginary  spurs,  and  with  his 
stick  tucked  up  under  his  remaining  arm,  very 
much  as  if  it  had  been  a  sabre. 

Being  come  up  to  them,  the  Sergeant  raised 
a  stiff  arm  as  though  about  to  salute  them,  mili- 
tary fashion,  but,  apparently  changing  his 
mind,  took  off  the  straw  hat  instead,  and  put 
it  on  again,  more  over  one  ear  than  ever. 

**  A  particular  fine  day.  Miss  Priscilla,  for 
the  time  o'  the  year,"  said  he. 

**  Indeed  I  quite  agree  with  you  Sergeant," 
returned  little  Miss  Priscilla  with  a  bright  nod, 
and  a  sly  glance  at  Bellew,  as  much  as  to  say, 
**  I  told  you  so!  "  ''  And  the  peaches,  mam," 
continued  the  Sergeant,  '  *  the  peaches  —  never 
looked  —  better,  mam."  Having  said  which, 
he  stood  looking  at  nothing  in  particular, 
with  his  one  hand  resting  lightly  upon  his 
hip. 

"  Yes,  to  be  sure.  Sergeant,"  nodded  Miss 
Priscilla,  with  another  sly  look.  *'  But  let  me 
introduce  you  to  Mr.  Bellew  who  is  staying  at 


THE   MONEY   MOON  71 

Dapplemere."  The  Sergeant  stiffened,  once 
more  began  a  salute,  changed  his  mind,  took 
off  his  hat  instead,  and,  after  looking  at  it  as 
though  not  quite  sure  what  to  do  with  it  next, 
clapped  it  back  upon  his  ear,  in  imminent  dan- 
ger of  falling  off,  and  was  done  with  it. 

"Proud  to  know  you,  sir,  —  your  servant, 
sir!  " 

"  How  do  you  do!  "  said  Bellew,  and  held 
out  his  hand  with  his  frank  smile.  The  Ser- 
geant hesitated,  then  put  out  his  remaining' 
hand. 

**  My  left,  sir,"  said  he  apologetically,. 
**  can't  be  helped  —  left  my  right  —  out  in 
India  —  a  good  many  years  ago.  Good  place 
for  soldiering,  India,  sir  —  plenty  of  active 
service  —  chances  of  promotion  —  though  sun 
bad!  " 

"  Sergeant,"  said  Miss  Priscilla,  without 
seeming  to  glance  up  from  her  sewing,  '*  Ser- 
geant,—  your  hat!  "  Hereupon,  the  Sergeant 
gave  a  sudden,  sideways  jerk  of  the  head,  and,, 
in  the  very  nick  of  time,  saved  the  article  in 
question  from  tumbling  off,  and  very  dexter- 
ously brought  it  to  the  top  of  his  close-cropped 
head,  whence  it  immediately  began,  slowly,  and 
by  scarcely  perceptible  degrees  to  slide  down  to 
his  ear  again. 


72  THE   MONEY   MOON 

"  Sergeant/'  said  Miss  Priscilla  again,  "  sit 
down,  —  do. '  * 

''  Thank  you  mam,"  said  he,  and  proceeded 
to  seat  himself  at  the  other  end  of  the  rustic 
bench,  where  he  remained,  bolt  upright,  and 
with  his  long  legs  stretched  out  straight  before 
him,  as  is,  and  has  been,  the  manner  of  cavalry- 
men since  they  first  wore  straps. 

''  And  now,"  said  he,  staring  straight  in 
front  of  him,  "  how  might  Miss  Anthea 
be?  " 

"  Oh,  very  well,  thank  you,"  nodded  Miss 
Priscilla. 

*'  Good!  "  exclaimed  the  Sergeant,  with  his 
eyes  still  fixed, ' '  very  good !  ' '  Here  he  passed 
his  hand  two  or  three  times  across  his  shaven 
chin,  regarding  an  apple-tree,  nearby,  with  an 
expression  of  the  most  profound  interest: 

*'  And  how,"  said  he  again,  *'  how  might 
Master  Georgy  be?  " 

''  Master  Georgy  is  as  well  as  ever,"  an- 
swered Miss  Priscilla,  stitching  away  faster 
than  before,  and  Bellew  thought  she  kept  her 
rosy  cheeks  stooped  a  little  lower  over  her 
work.  Meanwhile  the  Sergeant  continued  to 
regard  the  tree  with  the  same  degree  of  lively 
interest,  and  to  rasp  his  fingers  to  and  fro 
Across  his  chin.    Suddenly,  he  coughed  behind 


THE   MONEY   MOON  73 

his  hand,  whereupon  Miss  Priscilla  raised  her 
head,  and  looked  at  him. 

"  Well?  "  she  enquired,  very  softly: 

*'  And  pray,  mam,"  said  the  Sergeant,  re- 
moving his  gaze  from  the  tree  with  a  jerk, 
"  how  might  —  you  be  feeling,  mam?  " 

''  Much  the  same  as  usual,  thank  you,"  she 
answered,  smiling  like  a  girl,  for  all  her  white 
hair,  as  the  Sergeant's  eyes  met  hers. 

**  You  look,"  said  he,  pausing  to  cough  be- 
hind his  hand  again,  ''you  look  —  blooming, 
mam,  —  if  you'll  allow  the  expression, — 
blooming,  —  as  you  ever  do,  mam." 

"I'm  an  old  woman.  Sergeant,  as  well  you 
know!  "  sighed  Miss  Priscilla,  shaking  her 
head. 

"  Old,  mam!  "  repeated  the  Sergeant,  ''  old, 
mam!  —  nothing  of  the  sort,  mam!  —  Age  has 
nothing  to  do  with  it. —  'Tisn't  the  years  as 
count.  —  We  aren't  any  older  than  we  feel, — 
eh,  sir?  " 

"  Of  course  not!  "  answered  Bellew. 

"  Nor  than  we  look,  —  eh  sir?  " 

"  Certainly  not,  Sergeant!  "  answered  Bel- 
lew. 

"And  she,  sir,  —  she  don't  look  —  a  day 
older  than  —  " 

"Thirty  five!  "  said  Bellew. 


74  THE   MONEY  MOON 

*  *  Exactly,  sir,  very  true !  My  own  opinion, 
—  thirty  five  exactly,  sir. ' ' 

**  Sergeant,"  said  Miss  Priscilla,  bending 
over  her  work  again,  **  Sergeant,  —  your 
hat!  "  The  Sergeant,  hereupon,  removed  the 
distracting  head-gear  altogether,  and  sat  with 
it  upon  his  knee,  staring  hard  at  the  tree  again. 
Then,  all  at  once,  with  a  sudden  gesture  he 
drew  a  large,  silver  watch  from  his  pocket, — 
rather  as  if  it  were  some  weapon  of  offence,  — 
looked  at  it,  listened  to  it,  and  then  nodding 
his  head,  rose  to  his  feet. 

**  Must  be  going,"  he  said,  standing  very 
straight,  and  looking  down  at  little  Miss  Pris- 
cilla, ' '  though  sorry,  as  ever,  —  must  be  going, 
mam,  —  Miss  Priscilla  mam  —  good  day  to 
you  I  "  And  he  stretched  out  his  hand  to  her 
with  a  sudden,  jerky  movement.  Miss  Priscilla 
paused  in  her  sewing,  and  looked  up  at  him 
with  her  youthful  smile : 

'*  Must  you  go  —  so  soon.  Sergeant?  Then 
Good-bye,  —  until  to-morrow, ' '  and  she  laid  her 
very  small  hand  in  his  big  palm.  The  Sergeant 
stared  down  at  it  as  though  he  were  greatly 
minded  to  raise  it  to  his  lips,  instead  of  doing 
which,  he  dropped  it,  suddenly,  and  turned  to 
Bellew : 

**  Sir,  I  am  —  proud  to  have  met  you.    Sir, 


THE   MONEY   MOON  75 

there  is  a  poor  crippled  soldier  as  I  know,  —  his 
cottage  is  very  small,  and  humble  sir,  but  if  you 
ever  feel  like  —  dropping  in  on  him,  sir,  —  by 
day  or  night,  he  will  be  —  honoured,  sir,  hon- 
oured !  And  that 's  me  —  Sergeant  Richard 
Appleby  —  late  of  the  Nineteenth  Hussars  — 
at  your  service,  sir!  "  saying  which,  he  put  on 
his  hat,  stiff-armed,  wheeled,  and  strode  away 
through  the  orchard,  jingling  his  imaginary 
spurs  louder  than  ever. 

*'  TVell?  "  enquired  Miss  Priscilla  in  her 
quick,  bright  way,  *'  Well  Mr.  Bellew,  what  do 
you  think  of  him  ?  —  first  impressions  are  al- 
ways best,  —  at  least,  I  think  so,  —  what  do 
you  think  of  Sergeant  Appleby?  " 

*'  I  think  he's  a  splendid  fellow,"  said  Bel- 
lew,  looking  after  the  Sergeant's  upright  figure. 

"  A  very  foolish  old  fellow,  I  think,  and  as 
stiff  as  one  of  the  ram-rods  of  one  of  his  own 
guns!  "  said  Miss  Priscilla,  but  her  clear,  blue 
eyes  were  very  soft,  and  tender  as  she 
spoke. 

**  And  as  fine  a  soldier  as  a  man,  I'm  sure," 
said  Bellew. 

*'  "\^y  yes,  he  was  a  good  soldier,  once  upon 
a  time,  I  believe,  —  he  won  tlie  Victoria  Cross 
for  doing  something  or  otlier  that  was  very 
brave,  and  he  wears  it  with  all  his  other  medals, 


76  THE   MONEY   MOON 

pinned  on  the  inside  of  his  coat.  Oh  yes,  he 
was  a  fine  soldier,  once,  but  he 's  a  very  foolish 
old  soldier,  now,  —  I  think,  and  as  stiff  as  the 
ram-rod  of  one  of  his  own  guns.  But  I'm  glad 
you  like  him,  Mr.  Bellew,  and  he  will  be  proud, 
and  happy  for  you  to  call  and  see  him  at  his 
cottage.  And  now,  I  suppose,  it  is  half  past 
eleven,  isn't  it?  " 

''Yes,  just  half  past!"  nodded  Bellew, 
glancing  at  his  watch. 

'  *  Exact  to  time,  as  usual !  ' '  said  Miss  Pris- 
cilla,  ''  I  don't  think  the  Sergeant  has  missed 
a  minute,  or  varied  a  minute  in  the  last  five 
years,  —  you  see,  he  is  such  a  very  methodical 
man,  Mr.  Bellew!  " 

"  Why  then,  does  he  come  every  day,  at  the 
same  hour?  " 

*'  Every  day!  "  nodded  Miss  Priscilla,  "  it 
has  become  a  matter  of  habit  with  him." 

'<  Ah?  "  said  Bellew,  smiling. 

*'  If  you  were  to  ask  me  why  he  comes,  I 
should  answer  that  I  fancy  it  is  to  —  look  at 
the  peaches.  Dear  me,  Mr.  Bellew!  what  a 
very  foolish  old  soldier  he  is,  to  be  sure!  " 
Saying  which,  pretty,  bright-eyed  Miss  Pris- 
cilla, laughed  again,  folded  up  her  work,  settled 
it  in  the  basket  with  a  deft  little  pat,  and,  ri- 
sing, took  a  small,  crutch  stick  from  where  it 


THE   MONEY   MOON  77 

had  lain  concealed,  and  then,  Bellew  saw  that 
she  was  lame. 

*' Oh  yes,  —  I'm  a  cripple,  you  see,"  she 
nodded,  —  '*  Oh  very,  very  lame!  my  ankle, 
you  know.  That  is  why  I  came  here,  the  hig 
world  didn't  want  a  poor,  lame,  old  woman, — 
that  is  why  Miss  Anthea  made  me  her  Aunt, 
God  bless  her !  No  thank  you,  —  I  can  carry 
my  basket.  So  you  see,  —  he  —  has  lost  an 
arm,  —  his  right  one,  and  I  —  am  lame  in  my 
foot.  Perhaps  that  is  why —  Heigho!  how 
beautifully  the  black  birds  are  singing  this 
morning,  to  be  sure!  " 


CHAPTER   IX 

In  which  may  he  found  some  description  of 
Arcadia,  and  gooseberries 

Anthea,  leaning  on  lier  rake  in  a  shady  corner 
of  the  five-acre  field,  turned  to  watch  Bellew 
who,  stripped  to  his  shirt-sleeves,  bare  of  neck, 
and  arm,  and  pitch-fork  in  hand,  was  busy  toss- 
ing up  great  mounds  of  sweet-smelling  hay  to 
Adam  who  stood  upon  a  waggon  to  receive  it, 
with  Small  Porges  perched  up  beside  him. 

A  week  had  elapsed  since  Bellew  had  found 
his  way  to  Dapplemere,  a  week  which  had  only 
served  to  strengthen  the  bonds  of  affection  be- 
tween him  and  his  ' '  nephew, ' '  and  to  win  over 
sharp-eyed,  shrewd  little  Miss  Priscilla  to  the 
extent  of  declaring  him  to  be:  ''  First  a  gentle- 
man, Anthea,  my  dear,  and  Secondly,  —  what 
is  much  rarer,  now-a-days,  —  a  true  man !  "  A 
week!  and  already  he  was  hail-fellow-well-met 
with  everyone  about  the  place,  for  who  was 
proof  against  his  unaffected  gaiety,  his  simple, 
easy,  good-fellowship?  So  he  laughed,  and 
joked  as  he  swung  his  pitch-fork,  (awkwardly 
enough,  to  be  sure),  and  received  all  hints,  and 


THE   MONEY   MOON  79 

directions  as  to  its  use,  in  the  kindly  spirit  they 
TTere  tendered.  And  Anthea,  watching  him 
from  her  shady  corner,  sighed  once  or  twice, 
and  catching  herself,  so  doing,  stamped  her 
foot  at  herself,  and  pulled  her  sunbonnet  closer 
about  her  face. 

* '  No,  Adam, ' '  he  was  saying,  ' '  depend  upon 
it,  there  is  nothing  like  exercise,  and,  of  all  ex- 
ercise,—  give  me  a  pitch-fork." 

'*  Wliy,  as  to  that,  Mr.  Belloo,  sir,"  Adam 
retorted,  ''  I  say  —  so  be  it,  so  long  as  I  ain't 
near  the  wrong  end  of  it,  for  the  way  you  do 
'ave  of  flourishin'  an'  a  whirlin'  that  theer 
fork,  is  fair  as-tonishin',  I  do  declare  it  be.'* 

**  Why  you  see,  Adam,  there  are  some  born 
with  a  leaning  towards  pitch-forks,  as  there  are 
others  born  to  the  pen,  and  the  —  er  —  palette, 
and  things,  but  for  me,  Adam,  the  pitch-fork, 
every  time!  "  said  Bellew,  mopping  his  brow. 

**  If  you  was  to  try  an'  'andle  it  more  as  if 
it  was  a  pitchfork  now,  Mr.  Belloo,  sir  —  "  sug- 
gested Adam,  and,  not  waiting  for  Bellew 's 
laughing  rejoinder,  he  chirrupped  to  the  horses, 
and  the  great  waggon  creaked  away  with  its 
mountainous  load,  surmounted  by  Adam's  grin- 
ning visage,  and  Small  Forges'  golden  curls, 
and  followed  by  the  rest  of  the  merry-voiced 
hav-makers. 


80  THE   MONEY   MOON 

Now  it  was,  that  turning  his  head,  Bellew 
espied  Anthea  watching  him,  whereupon  he 
shouldered  his  fork,  and  coming  to  where  she 
sat  upon  a  throne  of  hay,  he  sank  down  at  her 
feet  with  a  luxurious  sigh.  She  had  never  seen 
him  without  a  collar,  before,  and  now  she  could 
not  but  notice  how  round,  and  white,  and  power- 
ful his  neck  was,  and  how  the  muscles  bulged 
upon  arm,  and  shoulder,  and  how  his  hair 
curled  in  small,  damp  rings  upon  his  brow. 

*'  It  is  good,"  said  he,  looking  up  into  the 
witching  face,  above  him,  *  *  yes,  it  is  very  good 
to  see  you  idle  —  just  for  once." 

**  And  I  was  thinking  it  was  good  to  see  you 
work,  —  just  for  once." 

''Work!"  he  exclaimed,  "my  dear  Miss 
Anthea,  I  assure  you  I  have  become  a  positive 
glutton  for  work.  It  has  become  my  earnest 
desire  to  plant  things,  and  grow  things,  and 
chop  things  with  axes;  to  mow  things  with 
scythes.  I  dream  of  pastures,  and  ploughs,  of 
pails  and  pitchforks,  by  night;  and,  by  day, 
reaping-hooks,  hoes,  and  rakes,  are  in  my 
thoughts  continually,  —  which  all  goes  to  show 
the  effect  of  this  wonderful  air  of  Arcadia. 
Indeed,  I  am  as  full  of  suppressed  energy,  these 
days,  as  Adam  is  of  the  *  Old  Adam.'  And, 
talking  of  Adam  reminds  me  that  he  has  sol- 


THE   MONEY   MOON  81 

emnly  pledged  himself  to  initiate  me  into  the 
mysteries  of  swinging  a  scythe  to-morrow 
morning  at  —  five  o'clock!  Yes  indeed,  my 
heart  bounds  responsive  to  the  swish  of  a  scythe 
in  thick  grass,  and  my  soul  sits  enraptured 
upon  a  pitch-fork." 

*  *  How  ridiculous  you  are !  ' '  she  laughed. 

**  And  how  perfectly  content!  "  he  added. 

**  Is  anyone  ever  quite  content?  "  she  sighed, 
glancing  down  at  him,  wistful-eyed. 

'*  Not  unless  they  have  found  Arcadia,"  he 
answered. 

"  Have  you  then?  " 

"  Yes,"  he  nodded  complacently,  '*  oh  yes, 
I've  found  it." 

* '  Are  you  —  sure  ?  ' ' 

**  Quite  sure!  " 

**  Arcadia!  "  she  repeated,  wrinkling  her 
brows,  "  what  is  Arcadia  and  —  where?  " 

**  Arcadia,"  answered  Bellew,  watching  the 
smoke  rise  up  from  his  pipe,  with  a  dreamy  eye, 
"  Arcadia  is  the  —  Promised  Land,  —  the  Land 
that  everyone  tries  to  find,  sometime  or  other, 
and  may  be  —  anywhere." 

**  And  how  came  you  to  —  find  it?  " 

"  By  the  most  fortunate  chance  in  the 
workl." 

"  Tell  me,"  said  Anthea,  taking  a  wisp  of 


82  THE   MONEY  MOON 

hay,  and  "beginning  to  plait  it  in  dexterous, 
brown  fingers,  ' '  tell  me  how  you  found  it. '  * 

"  Why  then  you  must  know,  in  the  first 
place, ' '  he  began  in  his  slow,  even  voice,  ' '  that 
it  is  a  place  I  have  sought  for  in  all  my  wan- 
derings, and  I  have  been  pretty  far  afield, — 
but  I  sought  it  so  long,  and  so  vainly,  that  I 
began  to  think  it  was  like  the  El  Dorado  of 
the  old  Adventurers,  and  had  never  existed 
at  all." 

*  *  Yes  ?  ' '  said  Anthea,  busy  with  her  plaiting. 

**  But,  one  day,  —  Fate,  or  Chance,  or  Des- 
tiny,—  or  their  benevolent  spirit,  sent  a  cer- 
tain square-shouldered  Waggoner  to  show  me 
the  way,  and,  after  him,  a  very  small  Porges, 
—  bless  him !  —  to  lead  me  into  this  wonderful 
Arcadia. '  * 

*'  Oh,  I  see!  "  nodded  Anthea,  very  intent 
upon  her  plaiting. 

"  But  there  is  something  more,"  said  Bellew. 

*'  Oh?  "  said  Anthea. 

"  Shall  I  tell  you?  " 

*'  If  —  it  is  —  very  interesting." 

"  Well  then,  in  this  delightful  land  there  is 
a  castle,  grim,  embattled,  and  very  strong." 

"  A  castle?  "  said  Anthea,  glancing  up  sud- 
denly. 

''  The  Castle  of  Heart's  Desire." 


THE   MONEY   MOON  83 


n 


Oh!  "  said  slie,  and  gave  all  her  attention 
to  her  plaiting  again. 

*'  And  so,"  continued  Bellew,  **  I  am  waiting, 
very  patiently,  until,  in  her  own  good  time,  she 
who  rules  within,  shall  open  the  gate  to  me, 
or  —  bid  me  go  away. ' ' 

Into  Bellew's  voice  had  crept  a  thrill  no  one 
had  ever  heard  there  before ;  he  leaned  nearer 
to  her,  and  his  dreamy  eyes  were  keen  now, 
and  eager.  And  she,  though  she  saw  nothing 
of  all  this,  yet,  being  a  woman,  knew  it  was 
there,  of  course,  and,  for  that  very  reason, 
looked  resolutely  away.  Wlierefore,  once 
again,  Bellew  heartily  wished  that  sunbonnets 
had  never  been  invented. 

So  there  was  silence  while  Anthea  stared 
away  across  the  golden  corn-fields,  yet  saw 
nothing  of  them,  and  Bellew  looked  upon  those 
slender,  capable  fingers,  that  had  faltered  in 
their  plaiting  and  stopped.  And  thus,  upon  the 
silence  there  broke  a  sudden  voice  shrill  with 
interest ; 

**  Go  on,  Uncle  Forges,  —  what  about  the 
dragons?  Oh,  please  go  on!  —  there's  always 
dragons  in  'chanted  castles,  you  know,  to  guard 
the  lovely  Princess,  —  aren't  you  going  to  have 
any  dragons  that  hiss,  you  know,  an'  spit  out 
smoke,  an'  flames?     Oh  I  —  do  please  have  a 


84  THE   MONEY   MOON 

dragon."  And  Small  Porges  appeared  from 
the  other  side  of  the  hay-mow,  flushed,  and 
eager. 

^*  Certainly,  my  Porges,"  nodded  Bellew, 
drawing  the  small  figure  down  beside  him,  "  I 
was  forgetting  the  dragons,  but  there  they 
are,  with  scaly  backs,  and  iron  claws,  spitting 
out  sparks  and  flames,  just  as  self-respect- 
ing dragons  should,  and  roaring  away  like 
thunder. ' ' 

'*  Ah!  "  exclaimed  Small  Porges,  nestling 
closer  to  Bellew,  and  reaching  out  a  hand  ta 
Auntie  Anthea,  ''  that's  fine!  let's  have  plenty 
of  dragons. ' ' 

*  *  Do  you  think  a  —  er  —  dozen  would  be 
enough,  my  Porges?  " 

'  ^  Oh  yes !  But  s  'pose  the  beautiful  Princess 
didn't  open  the  door,  —  what  would  you  do  if 
you  were  really  a  wandering  knight  who  was 
waiting  patiently  for  it  to  open,  —  what  would 
you  do  then?  " 

"  Shin  up  a  tree,  my  Porges.'* 

**  Oh  but  that  wouldn't  be  a  bit  right  —  would 
it,  Auntie?  " 

'  *  Of  course  not !  ' '  laughed  Anthea,  * '  it 
would  be  most  un-knight-like,  and  very  undig- 
nified." 

'Sides,"     added     Small     Porges,     "  you 


<< 


THE   MONEY   MOON  85 

couldn't  climb  up  a  tree  iu  your  armour,  you 
know." 

"  Then  I'd  make  an  awful'  good  try  at  it!  " 
nodded  Bellow. 

**  No,"  said  Small  Porges,  shaking  liis  bead, 
**  shall  I  tell  you  what  you  ought  to  do?  Well 
then,  you'd  draw  your  two-edged  sword,  an' 
dress  your  shield,  —  like  Gareth,  the  Kitchen 
Knave  did,  —  he  was  always  dressing  his 
shield,  an'  so  was  Lancelot,  —  an'  you'd  fight 
all  those  dragons,  an'  kill  them,  an'  cut  their 
beads  off." 

"  And  then  what  would  happen?  "  enquired 
Bellew. 

**  Wliy  then  the  lovely  Princess  would  open 
the  gate,  an'  marry  you  of  course,  an'  live 
happy  ever  after,  an'  all  would  be  revelry  an^ 
joy." 

''  Ah!  "  sighed  Bellew,  ''  if  she'd  do  that,  I 
think  I'd  fight  all  the  dragons  that  ever  roared, 

—  and  kill  them  too.    But  supposing  she  —  er 

—  wouldn't  open  the  gate." 

'*  ^Tiy  then,"  said  Small  Porges,  wrinkling 
bis  brow,  "  why  then  —  you'd  have  to  storm 
the  castle,  of  course,  an'  break  open  the  gate 
an'  run  off  with  the  Princess  on  your  charger, 

—  if  she  was  very  beautiful,  you  know." 

**  A  most  excellent  idea,  my  Porges!     If  I 


86  THE   MONEY   MOON 

should  happen  to  find  myself  in  like  circum- 
stances, I'll  surely  take  your  advice." 

Now,  as  he  spoke,  Bellew  glanced  at  Anthea, 
and  she  at  him.  And  straightway  she  blushed, 
and  then  she  laughed,  and  then  she  blushed 
again,  and,  still  blushing,  rose  to  her  feet,  and 
turned  to  find  Mr.  Cassilis  within  a  yard  of 
them. 

' '  Ah,  Miss  Anthea, ' '  said  he,  lifting  his  hat, 
"  I  sent  Georgy  to  find  you,  but  it  seems  he 
forgot  to  mention  that  I  was  waiting." 

"I'm  awful'  sorry,  Mr.  Cassilis,  —  but  Uncle 
Porges  was  telling  us  'bout  dragons,  you 
know,"  Small  Porges  hastened  to  explain. 

'*  Dragons!  "  repeated  Mr.  Cassilis,  with  his 
supercilious  smile,  *'  ah,  indeed!  dragons 
should  be  interesting,  especially  in  such  a  very 
quiet,  shady  nook  as  this,  —  quite  an  idyllic 
place  for  story-telling,  it's  a  positive  shame  to 
disturb  you,"  and  his  sharp,  white  teeth 
gleamed  beneath  his  moustache,  as  he  spoke, 
and  he  tapped  his  riding-boot  lightly  with 
his  hunting-crop  as  he  fronted  Bellew,  who 
had  risen,  and  stood  bare-armed,  leaning  upon 
his  pitch-fork.  And,  as  in  their  first  meet- 
ing, there  was  a  mute  antagonism  in  their 
look. 

**  Let  me  introduce  you  to  each  other,"  said 


THE   MONEY   MOON  87 

Anthoa,  conscious  of  this  attitndo,  —  ''Mr. 
Cassilis,  of  Brampton  Court,  —  Mr.  Bellew!  " 

*' Of  nowhere  in  particular,  sir!"  added 
Bellew. 

**  And  pray,"  said  Mr.  Cassilis  perfuncto- 
rily as  they  strolled  on  across  the  meadow, 
*'  how  do  you  like  Dapplemere,  Mr.  Bellew!  " 

**  Immensely,  sir,  —  beyond  all  expression!  " 

"  Yes,  it  is  considered  rather  pretty,  I  be- 
lieve. * ' 

**  Lovely,  sir!  "  nodded  Bellew,  ''  though  it 
is  not  so  much  the  beauty  of  the  place  itself, 
that  appeals  to  me  so  much  as  what  it  —  con- 
tains." 

"  Oh,  indeed!  "  said  Mr.  Cassilis,  with  u  sud- 
den, sharp  glance,  ''  to  what  do  you  refer?  " 

"  Goose-berries,  sir!  " 

"  I  —  ah  —  beg  your  pardon?  " 

"  Sir,"  said  Bellew  gravely,  '*  all  my  life  I 
have  fostered  a  secret  passion  for  goose-berries 
—  raw,  or  cooked,  —  in  pie,  pudding  or  jam, 
they  are  equally  alluring.  Unhappily  the 
American  goose-berry  is  but  a  hollow  mockery, 
at  best—  " 

**  Ha?  "  said  Mr.  Cassilis,  dubiously. 

**  Now,  in  goose-berries,  as  in  everything 
else,  sir,  there  is  to  be  found  ilie  superlative, 
the  quintessence,  —  the  ideal.     Consequently  1 


88  THE   MONEY   MOON 

have  roamed  East  and  West,  and  North  and 
South,  in  quest  of  it. ' ' 

"  Roally?  "  said  Mr.  Cassilis,  stifling  a  yawn, 
and  turning  towards  Miss  Anthea  with  the  very 
slightest  shrug  of  his  shoulders. 

**  And,  in  Dapplemere, "  c  nduded  Bellew, 
solemnly,  ''  I  h:.ve,  at  last,  found  my  ideal —  '' 

'  *  Goose-berry !  ' '  added  Anthea  with  a  laugh 
in  her  eyes. 

"  Ar^  dia  being  a  1  nd  of  ideals!  "  nodded 
Bellew. 

''Id.als,'*  said  Mr.  Cassilis,  caressing  his 
moustache,  *' ideals  and  —  ah  —  goose-berries, 
—  though  probably  excellent  things  in  them- 
selves, are  apt  to  pall  upon  one,  in  time;  per- 
sonally, I  find  them  equally  insipid,  —  ' ' 

*'  Of  course  it  is  all  a  matter  of  taste!  '* 
sigheci  Bellew. 

*'  But,"  Mr.  Cassilis  went  on,  fairly  turning 
his  back  upon  him,  **  the  subject  I  wished  to 
iiscuss  with  you.  Miss  Anthea,  was  the  —  er  — 
^approaching  sale." 

* '  The  sale !  ' '  she  repeated,  all  the  brightness 
djdng  out  of  her  face. 

"  I  wished,"  said  Cassilis,  leaning  nearer  to 
her,  and  lowering  his  voice  confidentially,  "  to 
try  to  convince  you  how  —  unnecessary  it  would 
be  —  if  —  "  and  he  paused,  significantly. 


THE   MONEY   MOON  89 

Antliea  turned  quickly  aside,  as  though  to 
hide  her  mortification  from  Bellew's  keen  eyes; 
■thereupon  he,  seeing  it  all,  became,  straight- 
way, more  dreamy  than  ever,  and,  laying  a 
hand  upon  Small  Forges'  shoulder,  pointed 
with  his  pitch-fork  to  where  at  the  other  end 
of  the  *'  Five-acre  "  the  hay-makers  worked 
away  as  merrily  as  ever: 

'*  Come,  my  Forges,"  said  he,  ''  let  us  away 
and  join  yon  happy  throng,  and  —  er  — 

•  With  Daphni.s,  and  Clo,  and  Blowsabel 
"We'll  list  to  tlie  -er  -  cuckoo  in  the  dell.'  " 

So,  hand  in  hand,  the  two  Forges  set  off  to- 
gether. But  when  they  had  gone  some  distance, 
Bellew  looked  back,  and  then  he  saw  that  An- 
thea  walked  with  her  head  averted,  yet  Oassilis 
walked  close  beside  her,  and  stooped,  now  and 
then,  until  the  black  moustache  came  very  near 
the  curl  —  that  curl  of  wanton  witchery  that 
)^3eped  above  her  ear. 

'*  Uncle  Forges  —  why  do  yon  frown  so?  " 

"  Frown,  my  Forges,  —  did  I?  Well,  I  was 
thinking." 

"  Well,  I'm  thinking  too,  only  I  don't  frown, 
you  know,  but  I'm  tliinking  just  the  same.** 

"  And  what  might  you  be  thinking, 
nephew!  " 


90  THE   MONEY   MOON 

<<  Wliy  I  was  thinking  that  although  you're 
so  awful  fond  of  goose-berries,  an'  though 
there's  lots  of  ripe  ones  on  the  bushes  I've 
never  seen  you  eat  a  single  one." 


4 


CHAPTER   X 

How  Bellcw  and  Adam  entered  into  a  solemn 
league  and  covenant 

"  Look  at  the  moon  to-niglit,  Uncle  Porges!  " 

*' I  see  it." 

"  It's  awfull'  big,  an'  round,  isn't  it?  " 

**  Yes,  it's  very  big,  and  very  round." 

"  An'  —  rather  —  yellow,  isn't  it?  " 

"Very  yellow!  " 

**  Just  like  a  great,  big  golden  sovereign, 
isn't  it." 

**  Very  much  like  a  sovereign,  my  Porges." 

*'  Well,  do  you  know,  I  was  wondering  —  if 
there  was  any  chance  that  it  was  a  —  Money 
Moon?  " 

They  were  leaning  out  at  the  lattice.  Small 
Porges,  and  Big  Porges.  Anthea  and  Miss 
Priscilla  were  busied  upon  household  matters 
wholly  feminine,  wherefore  Small  Porges  had 
drawn  Bollew  to  the  window,  and  there  they 
loaned,  the  small  body  enfolded  by  Bellew's 
long  arm,  and  the  two  faces  turned  up  to  the 
silvery  splendour  of  the  moon. 

But  now,  Anthea  came  up  behind  thom,  and, 


92  THE   MONEY  MOON 

not  noticing  the  position  of  Bellew's  arm  as  she 
leaned  on  the  other  side  of  Small  Forges,  it  be- 
fell that  her  hand  touched,  and  for  a  moment, 
rested  upon  Bellew's  hand,  hidden  as  it  was  in 
the  shadow.    And  this  probably  began  it. 

The  air  of  Arcadia,  as  has  been  said  before, 
is  an  intoxicating  air;  but  it  is  more,  it  is  an 
air  charged  with  a  subtle  magic  whereby  the 
commonest  objects,  losing  their  prosaic,  matter- 
of-fact  shapes,  become  transfigured  into  things 
of  wonder,  and  delight.  Little  things  that  pass 
as  mere  ordinary  common-places,  —  things  in- 
significant, and  wholly  beneath  notice  in  the 
every  day  world,  become  fraught  with  such  in- 
finite meaning,  and  may  hold  such  sublime,  such 
undreamed  of  possibilities  —  here  in  Arcadia. 
Thus,  when  it  is  recorded  that  Anthea's  hand 
accidentally  touched,  and  rested  upon  Bellew's 
—  the  significance  of  it  will  become  at  once  ap- 
parent. 

*'  And  pray,"  said  Anthea,  laying  that  same 
hand  in  the  most  natural  manner  in  the  world, 
upon  the  Small  Forges'  curls,  *'  Fray  what 
might  you  two  be  discussing  so  very  sol- 
emnly? " 

*'  The  moon,"  answered  Small  Forges.  **  I 
was  wondering  if  it  was  a  Money  Moon,  an' 
Uncle  Forges  hasn't  said  if  it  is,  yet.' 


)> 


THE   MONEY   MOON  93 

**  Wliy  no,  old  chap,"  answered  Bellew, 
*'  I'm  afraid  not." 

**  And  pray,"  said  Anthea  again,  "what 
might  a  Money  Moon  be!  " 

'*  Well,"  explained  Small  Porges,  *'  when  the 
moon's  just  —  just  so,  then  you  go  out  an*  — 
an'  find  a  fortune,  you  know.  But  the  moon's 
got  to  be  a  Money  Moon,  and  you've  got  to 
know,  j^ou  know,  else  you'll  find  nothing,  of 
course." 

*  *  Ah  Georgy  dear !  ' '  sighed  Anthea,  stoop- 
ing her  dark  head  down  to  his  golden  curls, 
**  don't  you  know  that  fortunes  are  very  hard 
to  get,  and  that  they  have  to  be  worked  for,  and 
that  no  one  ever  found  one  without  a  great  deal 
of  labour,  and  sorrow?  " 

**  'Course  —  everyone  can't  find  fortunes, 
Auntie  Anthea,  I  know  that,  but  we  shall,  — 
my  Uncle  Porges  knows  all  about  it,  you  see, 
an'  I  know  that  we  shall.  I'm  sure  as  sure  we 
shall  find  one,  some  day,  'cause,  you  see,  I  put 
it  in  my  prayers  now,  —  at  the  end,  you  know. 
I  say :  *  An '  please  help  me  an '  my  Uncle  Porges 
1o  find  a  fortune  when  the  Money  Moon  comes, 
—  a  big  one,  world  without  end  —  Amen  I  '  So 
you  see,  it's  all  right,  an'  we're  just  waiting  till 
the  Money  Moon  comes,  aren't  we,  Uncle 
Porges?  " 


94  THE   MONEY   MOON 

**  Yes,  old  chap,  yes,"  nodded  Bellew,  **  until 
the  Money  Moon  conies." 

And  so  there  fell  a  silence  between  them,  yet  a 
silence  that  held  a  wondrous  charm  of  its  own ; 
a  silence  that  lasted  so  long  that  the  coppery 
curls  drooped  lower,  and  lower  upon  Bellew 's 
arm,  until  Anthea,  sighing,  rose,  and  in  a  very 
tender  voice  bade  Small  Forges  say  '  Good- 
night !  '  The  which  he  did,  forthwith,  slumber- 
ous of  voice,  and  sleepy  eyed,  and  so,  with  his 
hand  in  Anthea 's,  went  drowsily  up  to  bed. 

Wherefore,  seeing  that  Miss  Priscilla  had 
bustled  away  into  the  kitchen,  Bellew  sauntered 
out  into  the  rose-garden  to  look  upon  the  beauty 
of  the  night.  The  warm  air  was  fragrant  with 
dewy  scents,  and  the  moon,  already  high  above 
the  tree-tops,  poured  down  her  gentle  radiance 
upon  the  quaint,  old  garden  with  its  winding 
walks,  and  clipped  yew  hedges,  while  upon  the 
quiet,  from  the  dim  shadow  of  the  distant 
woods,  stole  the  soft,  sweet  song  of  a  nightin- 
gale. 

Bellew  walked  a  path  bordered  with  flowers, 
and  checkered  with  silver  patches  of  moon-light, 
drinking  in  the  thousand  beauties  about  him, 
staring  up  at  the  glory  of  the  moon,  the  indigo 
of  the  sky,  and  listening  to  the  voice  of  the 
lonely  singer  in  the  wood.    And  yet  it  was  of 


THE   MONEY   MOON  95 

none  of  these  he  was  thinking  as  he  paused 
under  the  shadow  of  "  King  Arthur,"  —  nor  of 
Small  Porges,  nor  of  any  one  or  anything  in  this 
world  but  only  of  the  sudden,  light  touch  of  a 
warm,  soft  hand  upon  his.  ''  Be  that  you, 
sir?  "  Bellew  started  and  now  he  found  that 
he  had  been  sitting,  all  this  while,  with  an 
empty  pipe  between  his  teeth,  yet  content  there- 
with; wherefore  he  shook  his  head,  and  won- 
dered. 

**  Be  that  you,  Mr.  Beloo,  sir?  " 

"  Yes  Adam,  it  is  I." 

"  Ah!  an'  how  might  you  be  feelin'  now  — 
arter  your  exercise  wi'  the  pitch-fork,  sir?  " 

* '  Very  fit,  I  thank  you,  Adam.  Sit  down,  and 
smoke,  and  let  us  converse  together." 

**  Why  thankee  sir,"  answered  Adam,  pro- 
ducing the  small,  black  clay  pipe  from  his  waist- 
coat pocket,  and  accepting  Bellew 's  proffered 
pouch.  '*  I've  been  up  to  the  'ouse  a  visitin' 
Prudence,  the  cook,  —  an'  a  rare  cook  she  be, 
too,  Mr.  Beloo  sir!  " 

"  And  a  rare  buxom  girl  into  the  bargain, 
Adam!  " 

"  Oh,  ah!  —  she's  well  enough,  sir;  I  won't 
go  for  to  deny  as  she's  a  fine,  up-standing,  well- 
shaped,  tall,  an'  propor  figure  of  a  woman  as 
ever  was,  sir,  —  though  the  Kentish  lasses  be  a 


96  THE   MONEY   MOON 

tidy  lot,  Mr.  Beloo  sir.  But,  Lord!  when  you 
come  to  think  of  her  gift  for  Yorkshire  Puddin ', 
likewise  jam-rollers,  and  seed-cake,  —  (which, 
though  mentioned  last,  ain't  by  no  manner  o' 
means  least),  —  when  you  come  to  think  of  her 
brew  o'  ale,  an'  cider,  an'  ginger  wine,  —  why 
then  —  I'm  took,  sir,  I'm  took  altogether,  an' 
the  *  Old  Adam  '  inside  o'  me  works  hisself  into 
such  a  state  that  if  another  chap  —  'specially 
that  there  Job  Jagway  gets  lookin'  her  way 
too  often,  why  it's  got  to  get  took  out  o'  him, 
or  took  out  o'  me  in  good  'ard  knocks,  Mr. 
Belloo,  sir." 

''  And  when  are  you  going  to  get  married, 
Adam?  " 

**  Well  sir,  we  was  thinkin'  that  if  Miss 
Anthea  has  a  good  season,  this  year,  we'd  get 
it  over  an '  done  wi '  some  time  in  October,  sir,  — • 
but  it's  all  accordin'." 

**  According  to  what?  " 

'  *  To  the  'ops,  sir,  —  the  HOPS  —  'ops,  sir. 
They're  comin'  on  fine,  —  ah!  scrumptuous 
they  be!  If  they  don't  take  the  blight,  sir, 
they'll  be  the  finest  'ops  this  side  o'  Maidstone. 
But  then,  if  they  do  take  the  blight,  —  why 
then  my  'opes  is  blighted  likewise  sir,  — 
B-L-I-T-E-D,  —  blighted,  Mr.  Belloo  sir !  ' ' 
which  said,  Adam  laughed  once,  nodded  his 


THE   MONEY   MOON  97 

head  several  times,  and  relapsed  into  puffing 
silence. 

"  Mr.  Cassilis  was  over  to-day,  Adam,"  said 
Bellew,  after  a  while  pursuing  a  train  of 
thought. 

"Ah  sir!  —  I  seen  him, —  'e  also  seen  me, 
*E  told  me  as  Job  Jagway  was  up  and  about 
again,  —  likewise  Job  Jagway  will  be  over 
'ere  to-morrow,  along  wi'  the  rest  of  'em  for 
the  sale,  sir." 

"  Ah  yes,  —  the  sale !  "  said  Bellew,  thought- 
fullv. 

"  To  think  o'  that  there  Job  Jagway  a  coming 
over  here  to  buy  Miss  Anthea's  furnitur'  do  set 
the  Old  Adam  a  workin'  inside  o'  me  to  that 
amazin'  extent  as  I  can't  sit  still,  Mr.  Belloo  sir  I 
If  that  there  Job  crosses  my  path  to-morrer  — 
well  —  let  'im  —  look  out,  that's  all!  "  saying 
which,  Adam  doubled  up  a  huge,  knotted  fist  and 
shook  it  at  an  imaginary  Job. 

**  Adam,"  said  Bellew,  in  the  same  thought- 
ful tone,  **  I  wonder  if  you  would  do  some 
thing  for  mc?  " 

"  Anything  you  ax  me,  sir,  so  long  as  yon 
don't  want  me  to  —  " 

"  T  want  you  to  buy  some  of  that  furniture 
for  me." 

**  TVhat!  "  exclaimed  Adam,  and  vented  his 


98  THE   MONEY  MOON 

great  laugh  again,  "  well,  if  that  ain't  a  good 
^un,  sir !  why  that's  just  w'ot  I'm  a  going  to  do ! 
Ye  see,  I  ain't  w'ot  you  might  call  a  rich  cove, 
nor  yet  a  millionaire,  but  I've  got  a  bit  put  by, 
an '  I  drawed  out  ten  pound,  yesterday.  Thinks 
I,  —  *  here 's  to  save  Miss  Anthea  's  old  side- 
board, or  the  mirror  as  she's  so  fond  of,  or  if 
not  —  why  then  a  cheer  or  so,  —  they  ain't  a 
going  to  get  it  all,  —  not  while  I  've  got  a  pound 
or  two, '  I  sez  to  myself. '  ^ 

*  *  Adam, ' '  said  Belle w,  turning  suddenly, 
**  that  sentiment  does  you  credit,  that  senti- 
ment makes  me  proud  to  have  knocked  yoU 
into  a  ditch,  —  shake  hands,  Adam. ' '  And 
there,  beneath  the  great  apple  tree,  while  the 
moon  looked  on,  they  very  solemnly  shook 
hands. 

*  *  And  now,  Adam, ' '  pursued  Belle w,  * '  I  want 
you  to  put  back  your  ten  pounds,  keep  it  for 
Prudence,  —  because  I  happen  to  have  rather 
more  than  we  shall  want,  —  see  here !  '  *  And, 
with  the  words,  Bellew  took  out  a  leathern  wal- 
let, and  from  this  wallet,  money,  and  bank-notes, 
—  more  money,  and  more  bank-notes  than 
Adam  had  ever  beheld  in  all  his  thirty  odd 
years,  at  sight  of  which  his  eyes  opened,  and  his 
square  jaw  relaxed,  to  the  imminent  danger  of 
Ms  cherished  clay  pipe. 


THE   MONEY   MOON  99 

"  I  waut  von  to  take  this,"  Bellew  went  on, 
counting  a  sum  into  Adam's  nerveless  hand, 
'*  and  to-morrow,  when  the  sale  begins,  if  any 
one  makes  a  bid  for  anything,  I  want  you  to  bid 
higher,  and,  no  matter  what,  you  must  always 
buy  —  always,  you  understand?  " 

'*  But  sir,  —  that  there  old  drorin'-room  cab'- 
net  wi'  the  —  car\dngs  —  " 

*♦  Buy  it!  " 

**  An'  the  silver  candle-sticks,  —  and  the 
four-post  bed-stead,  —  an'  the  —  " 

*'  Buy  'em,  Adam,  —  buy  everything!  If  we 
haven't  enough  money  there's  plenty  more 
where  this  came  from,  —  only  buy !  —  You  un- 
derstand? " 

**  Oh  yes  sir,  I  understand!  'Ow  much  'ave 
you  give  me?  Wliy,  here's  —  forty-five, — 
fifty,  —  sixty,  —  Lord !  —  " 

**  Put  it  away,  Adam,  —  forget  all  about  it 
till  to-morrow,  —  and  not  a  word,  mind !  " 

"A  hundred  pound!"  gasped  Adam, 
"  Lord !  —  Oil  I  won't  speak  of  it,  trust  me,  Mr. 
Belloo,  sir!  But  to  tliink  of  me  a  walking  about 
wi'  a  hundred  pound  in  my  pocket,  —  Lord!  I 
won't  say  nothin',  —  but  to  tliink  of  Old  Adam 
wi'  a  hundred  pound  in  his  pocket,  e'Cod!  it 
do  seem  that  comical!  "  saying  which,  Adam 
buttoned  the  money  into  a  capacious  pocket. 


100  THE   MONEY  MOON 

slapped  it,  nodded,  and  rose.  ^'  Well  sir,  I'll 
be  going,  —  there  be  Miss  Anthea  in  the  garden 
yonder,  and  if  she  was  to  see  me  now  there's 
no  sayin'  but  I  should  be  took  a  laughin'  id 
think  o'  this  'ere  hundred  pound." 

**  Miss  Anthea!  —  where?  " 

^*  Comin'  through  the  rose-gardin.  She  be 
off  to  see  old  Mother  Dibbin.  They  call  Mother 
Dibbin  a  witch,  an'  now  as  she's  down  wi'  the 
rheumatics  there  ain  't  nobody  to  look  arter  'er, 
—  'cept  Miss  Anthea,  —  she'd  ha'  starved  afore 
now  if  it  'adn't  been  for  Miss  Anthea,  but  Lord 
love  your  eyes,  an'  limbs,  Mr.  Belloo  sir!  Miss 
Anthea  don't  care  if  she's  a  witch,  or  fifty 
witches,  not  she !  So  good-night,  Mr.  Belloo  sir, 
an '  mum 's  the  word !  ' ' 

Saying  which,  Adam  slapped  his  pocket 
again,  nodded,  winked,  and  went  upon  his  way. 


I 


CHAPTER   XI 

Of  the  "  Man  with  the  Tiger  Mark  " 

It  is  a  moot  question  as  to  whether  a  curl  can 
be  more  alluring  when  it  glows  beneath  the  fiery 
kisses  of  the  sun,  or  shines  demurely  in  the 
tender  radiance  of  the  moon.  As  Bellow  looked 
at  it  now,  —  that  same  small  curl  that  nodded 
and  beckoned  to  him  above  Anthea's  left  ear,  — 
he  strongly  inclined  to  the  latter  opinion. 

*  *  Adam  tells  me  that  you  are  going  out,  Miss 
Anthea." 

**  Only  as  far  as  Mrs.  Dibbin's  cottage, — 
just  across  the  meadow." 

'*  Adam  also  informs  me  that  Mrs.  Dibbin  is 
a  witch." 

**  People  call  her  so." 

**  Never  in  all  my  days  have  I  seen  a  genuine, 
old  witch,  —  so  I'll  come  with  you,  if  I  may?  " 

"  Oh,  this  is  a  very  gentle  old  witch,  and  she 
is  neither  humpbacked,  nor  does  she  ride  a 
broom-stick,  —  so  I'm  afraid  you'll  be  disap- 
pointed, Mr.  Bellew." 

**  Then,  at  least,  I  can  carry  your  basket, — 
allow  me!  "     And  so,  in  his  quiet,  masterful 


102  THE   MONEY   MOON 

fashion  hie  took  the  basket  from  her  arm,  and 
walked  on  beside  her,  through  the  orchard. 

'*  What  a  glorious  night  it  is!  "  exclaimed 
Anthea  suddenly,  drawing  a  deep  breath  of  the 
fragrant  air,  — ' '  Oh !  it  is  good  to  be  alive !  In 
spite  of  all  the  cares,  and  worries,  life  is  very 
sweet!  " 

After  this,  they  walked  on  some  distance  in 
silence,  she  gazing  wistfully  upon  the  beauties 
of  the  familiar  world  about  her  while  he 
watched  the  curl  above  her  ear  until  she,  be- 
coming aware  of  it  all  at  once,  promptly  sent 
it  back  into  retirement,  with  a  quick,  deft  little 
pat  of  her  fingers. 

*'  I  hope,"  said  Bellew  at  last,  **  I  do  sin- 
cerely hope  that  you  '  tucked  up  '  my  nephew 
safe  in  bed,  —  you  see  —  " 

*'  Your  nephew,  indeed!  " 

"  Our  nephew,  then;  I  ask  because  he  tells 
me  that  he  can't  possibly  sleep  unless  you  go 
to  *  tuck  him  up, '  —  and  I  can  quite  believe  it. ' ' 

**  Do  you  Imow,  Mr.  Bellew,  I'm  growing 
quite  jealous  of  you,  he  can 't  move  a  step  with- 
out you,  and  he  is  for  ever  talking,  and  lauding 
your  numberless  virtues!  " 

"  But  then  —  I'm  only  an  uncle,  after  all,  and 
if  he  talks  of  me  to  you,  he  talks  of  you  to  me,  all 
day  long." 


THE   MONEY   MOON  103 

**  Oil,  does  he  I  " 

**  And,  among  other  things,  he  toki  me  that  I 
ought  to  see  you  when  your  hair  is  down,  and  all 
about  you." 

"  Oh!  "  exclaimed  Anthea. 

"  Indeed,  our  nephew  is  much  luckier  than  I, 
because  I  never  had  an  aunt  of  my  own  to  come 
and  '  tuck  me  up  '  at  night  with  her  hair  hang- 
ing all  about  her  —  like  a  beautiful  cloak.  So, 
you  see,  I  have  no  boyish  recollections  to  go 
upon,  but  I  think  I  can  imagine  —  " 

"  And  what  do  you  think  of  the  Sergeant!  " 
Anthea  enquired,  changing  the  subject  ab- 
ruptly. 

**  I  like  him  so  much  that  I  am  going  to  take 
him  at  his  word,  and  call  upon  him  at  the  first 
opportunity." 

**  Did  Aunt  Priscilla  tell  you  that  he  come^ 
marching  along  regularly  every  day,  at  exactly 
the  same  hour?  " 

"  Yes,  —  to  see  how  the  peaches  are  getting 
on !  "  nodded  Bellow. 

"  For  such  a  very  brave  soldier  he  is  a  dread- 
ful coward,"  said  Anthea,  smiling,  **  it  has 
taken  him  five  years  to  screw  up  courage  enough 
to  tell  her  that  she's  uncommonly  young  for  her 
age.  And  yet,  I  tliink  it  is  just  that  diffidence 
that  makes  him  so  lovable.    And  he  is  so  sim- 


104  THE   MONEY   MOON! 

pie,  and  so  gentle  —  in  spite  of  all  his  war 
medals.  When  I  am  moody,  and  cross,  the  very; 
sight  of  him  is  enough  to  put  me  in  humour 
again. ' ' 

* '  Has  he  never  —  spoken  to  Miss  Pris- 
cilla,— ?  " 

* '  Never,  —  though,  of  course,  she  knows,  and 
has  done  from  the  very  first.  I  asked  him  once, 
why  he  had  never  told  her  what  it  was  brought 
him  so  regularly,  —  to  look  at  the  peaches, — 
and  he  said,  in  his  quick,  sharp  way:  *  Miss 
Anthea,  —  can't  be  done,  mam,  —  a  poor,  bat- 
tered, old  soldier,  —  only  one  arm,  —  no 
mam.'  " 

"  I  wonder  if  one  could  find  just  such  an- 
other Sergeant  outside  Arcadia,"  said  Bellew, 
^  *  I  wonder !  ' ' 

Now  they  were  approaching  a  stile  towards 
which  Bellew  had  directed  his  eyes,  from  time 
to  time,  as,  for  that  matter,  curiously  enough, 
had  Anthea ;  but  to  him  it  seemed  that  it  never 
would  be  reached,  while  to  her,  it  seemed  that 
it  would  be  reached  much  too  soon.  Therefore 
she  began  to  rack  her  mind  trying  to  remember 
some  gate,  or  any  gap  in  the  hedge  that  should 
obviate  the  necessity  of  climbing  it.  But,  be- 
fore she  could  recall  any  such  gate,  or  gap, 
they  were  at  the  stile,  and  Bellew,  leaping  over, 


TliE   MONEY  MOON  105 

had  set  down  the  basket,  and  stretched  out  his 
hand  to  aid  her  over.  But  Anthea,  tall,  and 
lithe,  active  and  vigorous  with  her  outdoor  life, 
and  used  to  such  things  from  her  infancy,  stood 
a  moment  hesitating.  To  be  sure,  the  stile  was 
rather  high,  yet  she  could  have  vaulted  it 
nearly,  if  not  quite,  as  easily  as  Bellew  himself, 
had  she  been  alone.  But  then,  she  was  not 
alone,  moreover,  be  it  remembered,  this  was  in 
Arcadia  of  a  mid-summer  night.  Thus,  she 
hesitated,  only  a  moment,  it  is  true,  for,  seeing 
the  quizzical  look  in  his  eyes  that  always  made 
her  vaguely  rebellious,  —  with  a  quick,  light 
movement,  she  mounted  the  stile,  and  there 
paused  to  shake  her  head  in  laughing  disdain 
of  his  out-stretched  hand;  then  —  there  was 
the  sound  of  rending  cambric,  she  tripped,  and, 
next  moment,  he  had  caught  her  in  his  arms. 
It  was  for  but  a  very  brief  instant  that  she  lay, 
soft  and  yielding,  in  his  embrace,  yet  she  was 
conscious  of  how  strong  were  the  arms  that 
held  her  so  easily,  ere  they  set  her  down. 

"I  beg  your  pardon!  —  how  awkward  I 
am!  "  she  exclaimed,  in  hot  mortification. 

**  No,"  said  Bollew,  shaking  his  head,  '*  it 
was  a  nail,  you  know,  a  bent,  and  rusty  nail,  — 
here,  under  the  top  bar.  Is  your  dress  much 
torn?  " 


106  THE   MONEY  MOON 

*'  Oh,  that  is  nothing,  thank  you  I  '* 

So  they  went  on  again,  but  now  they  were 
silent  once  more,  and  very  naturally,  for  An- 
thea  was  mightily  angry,  —  with  herself,  the 
stile,  Bellew,  and  everything  concerned;  while 
he  was  thinking  of  the  sudden,  warm  clasp 
of  her  arms,  of  the  alluring  fragrance  of 
her  hair,  and  of  the  shy  droop  of  her  lashes 
as  she  lay  in  his  embrace.  Therefore,  as  he 
walked  on  beside  her,  saying  nothing,  within 
his  secret  soul  he  poured  benedictions  upon  the 
head  of  that  bent,  and  rusty  nail. 

And  presently,  having  turned  down  a  grassy 
lane  and  crossed  a  small  but  very  noisy  brook 
that  chattered  impertinences  among  the  stones 
and  chuckled  at  them  slily  from  the  shadows, 
they  eventually  came  upon  a  small,  and  very 
lonely  little  cottage  bowered  in  roses  and 
honeysuckle,  —  as  are  all  the  cottages  here- 
abouts. But  now  Anthea  paused,  looking  at 
Bellew  with  a  dubious  brow. 

'*  I  ought  to  warn  you  that  Mrs.  Dibbin  is 
very  old,  and  sometimes  a  little  queer,  and 
sometimes   says  very  —  surprising  things.'* 

"  Excellent!  '*  nodded  Bellew,  holding  the 
little  gate  open  for  her,  "  very  right  and  proper 
conduct  in  a  witch,  and  I  love  surprises  above 
all  things." 


THE   MONEY   MOON  107 

But  Anthea  still  hesitated,  while  Bellew 
stood  with  his  hand  upon  the  gate,  waiting  for 
her  to  enter.  Now  he  had  left  his  hat  hehind 
him,  and,  as  the  moon  shone  down  on  his  hare 
head,  she  could  not  hut  notice  how  bright,  and 
yellow  was  his  hair,  despite  the  thick,  black 
brows  below. 

"  I  think  I  —  would  rather  you  waited  out- 
side,—  if  you  don't  mind,  Mr.  Bellew." 

**  You  mean  that  I  am  to  be  denied  the  joj 
of  conversing  with  a  real,  live,  old  witch,  and 
ha^^ng  my  fortune  told?  "  he  sighed.  **  Well, 
if  such  is  your  will  —  so  be  it,"  said  he  obedi- 
ently, and  handed  her  the  basket. 

"  I  won't  keep  you  waiting  very  long,  —  and 

—  thank  you!  "  she  smiled,  and,  hurrying  up 
the  narrow  path,  she  tapped  at  the  cottage 
door. 

"  Come  in!  come  in!  "  cried  an  old,  quaver- 
ing voice,  albeit,  very  sharp,  and  piercing. 
**  That  be  my  own  soft  dove  of  a  maid,  —  my 
proud,  beautiful,  white  lady!  Come  in!  come 
in!  —  and  bring  him  wi'  you,  —  him  as  is  so 
big,  and  strong,  —  him  as  I've  expected  so  long, 

—  the  till],  golden  man  from  over  seas.  Bid 
him  come  in.  Miss  Anthea,  that  Goody  Dibbin'a 
old  eyes  may  look  at  him  at  last." 

Hereupon,  at  a  sign  from  Anthea,  Bellew 


108  THE   MONEY  MOON 

turned  in  at  the  gate,  and  striding  up  the  path, 
entered  the  cottage. 

Despite  the  season,  a  fire  burned  upon  the 
hearth,  and  crouched  over  this,  in  a  great 
elbow-chair,  sat  a  very  bent,  and  aged  woman. 
Her  face  was  furrowed,  and  seamed  with  num- 
berless lines  and  wrinkles,  but  her  eyes  were 
still  bright,  and  she  wore  no  spectacles;  like- 
wise her  white  hair  was  wonderfully  thick,  and 
abundant,  as  could  plainly  be  seen  beneath  the 
frill  of  her  cap,  for,  like  the  very  small  room 
of  this  very  small  cottage,  she  was  extremely 
neat,  and  tidy.  She  had  a  great,  curving  nose, 
and  a  great,  curving  chin,  and  what  with  this 
and  her  bright,  black  eyes,  and  stooping  figure, 
she  was  very  much  like  what  a  witch  should 
be,  —  albeit  a  very  superior  kind  of  old  witch. 

She  sat,  for  a  while,  staring  up  at  Bellew 
who  stood  tall,  and  bare-headed,  smiling  down 
at  her;  and  then,  all  at  once,  she  nodded  her 
head  three  several,  and  distinct  times. 

* '  Eight !  ' '  she  quavered,  * '  right !  right,  — 
it  be  all  right!  —  the  golden  man  as  I've 
watched  this  many  an'  many  a  day,  wi'  the 
curly  hair,  and  the  sleepy  eye,  and  the  Tiger- 
mark  upon  his  arm,  —  right !   right !  ' ' 

"  What  do  you  mean  by  *  Tiger-mark?  '  '* 
enquired  Bellew. 


THE   MONEY   MOON  109 

**  I  mean,  young  master  wi'  your  golden 
curls,  —  I  mean  as,  sitting  here  day  in,  and  day 
out,  staring  down  into  my  fire,  I  has  my  dreams, 
—  leastwaj's,  I  calls  'em  my  dreams,  though 
there's  them  as  calls  it  the  '  second  sight.'  But 
pray  sit  down,  tall  sir,  on  the  stool  there;  and 
you,  my  tender  maid,  my  dark  lady,  come  you 
here  —  upon  my  right,  and,  if  you  wish,  I'll 
look  into  the  ink,  or  read  your  pretty  hand,  or 
tell  you  what  I  see  down  there  in  the  fire.  But 
no,  —  first,  show  what  you  have  brought  for 
Old  Nannie  in  the  blessed  basket,  —  the  fine, 
strong  basket  as  holds  so  much.  Yes,  set 
it  down  here  —  where  I  can  open  it  mj^self, 
tall  sir.  Eh,  —  what's  this?  —  Tea !  God  bless 
you  for  the  tea,  my  dear!  And  eggs,  and  but- 
ter,—  and  a  cold  chicken!  —  the  Lord  bless 
your  kind  heart,  Miss  Anthea!  Ah,  my  proud 
lady,  happy  the  man  who  shall  win  ye !  Happy 
tlie  man  who  shall  wed  ye,  my  dark,  beautiful 
maid.  And  strong  must  he  be,  aye,  and  mas- 
terful he  who  shall  wake  the  love-light  in  tliose 
dark,  great,  passionate  eyes  of  yours.  And 
there  is  no  man  in  all  this  world  can  do  it  but 
he  must  be  a  golden  man  —  wi'  the  Tiger-mark 
upon  him." 

"  Why  — oh  Nannie  —  !  " 

**  Aye,  —  blu.sh  if  ye  will,  my  dark  lady,  but 


110  THE   MONEY   MOON 

Mother  Dibbin  knows  she's  seen  it  in  the  fire, 
dreamed  it  in  her  dreams,  and  read  it  in  the 
ink.    The  path  lies  very  dark  afore  ye,  my  lady, 

—  aye  very  dark  it  be,  and  full  o'  cares,  and 
troubles,  but  there 's  the  sun  shining  beyond,  — 
bright,  and  golden.  You  be  proud,  and  high, 
and  scornful,  my  lady,  —  'tis  in  your  blood,  — 
you'll  need  a  strong  hand  to  guide  ye,  —  and 
the  strong  hand  shall  come.  By  force  you  shall 
be  wooed,  and  by  force  you  shall  be  wed, — 
and  there  be  no  man  strong  enough  to  woo,  and 
wed  ye,  but  him  as  I've  told  ye  of  —  him  as 
bears  the  Tiger-mark." 

*'  But  Nannie,"  said  Anthea  again,  gently 
interrupting  her,  and  patting  the  old  woman's 
shrivelled  hand,  **  you're  forgetting  the  basket, 

—  you  haven't  found  all  we've  brought  you, 
yet." 

''  Aye,  aye!  "  nodded  old  Nannie,  **  the  fine, 
strong  basket,  —  let's  see  what  more  be  in  the 
good,  kind  basket.  Here's  bread,  and  sugar, — 
and—" 

**  A  pound  of  your  favourite  tobacco!  "  said 
Anthea,  with  a  smiling  nod. 

"  Oh  the  good  weed!  The  blessed  weed!  " 
cried  the  old  woman,  clutching  the  package  with 
trembling  fingers.  *  *  Ah !  who  can  tell  the  com- 
fort it  has  been  to  me  in  the  long,  long  days, 


THE   MONEY   MOON  111 

aud  the  long,  long  nights,  —  the  blessed  weed ! 
when  I've  sat  here  a  looking  and  a  looking  into 
the  lire.  God  bless  you,  my  sweet  maid,  for 
your  kindly  thouglit !  "  and,  with  a  sudden  ges- 
ture, she  caught  Anthea's  hand  to  her  lips,  and 
then,  just  as  suddenly  turned  upon  Bellew. 

**  And  now,  tall  sir,  can  I  do  ought  for  ye? 
Shall  I  look  into  the  fire  for  ye,  or  the  ink,  or 
read  your  hand?  " 

"  'UTiy  yes,"  answered  Bellew,  stretching 
out  his  hand  to  her,  ''  you  shall  tell  me  two 
things,  if  you  will ;  first,  shall  one  ever  find  liis 
way  into  the  *  Castle  of  Heart's  Desire,'  and 
secondly;  —  TVlien?  " 

**  Oh,  but  I  don't  need  to  look  into  your  hand 
to  tell  you  that,  tall  sir,  nor  yet  in  the  ink,  or 
in  the  fire,  for  I've  dreamed  it  all  in  my  dreams. 
And  now,  see  you,  'tis  a  strong  place,  tliis 
Castle,  —  wi'  thick  doors,  and  great  locks,  and 
bars.  But  I  have  seen  those  doors  broke'  down, 
—  those  great  locks,  and  bars  buret  asunder,  — 
but  —  there  is  none  can  do  this  but  him  as  bears 
the  Tiger-Mark.  So  much  for  the  first.  And, 
for  the  second,  —  Happiness  shall  come  a  ri- 
ding to  you  on  tlie  full  moon,  —  but  you  must 
reach  up  —  and  take  it  for  yourself,  —  if  you  be 
tall  enough." 

"  And  —  even  you  are  not  tall  enough  to  do 


112  THE   MONEY   MOON 

tliat,  Mr.  Bellew !  ' '  laughed  Anthea,  as  she  rose 
to  bid  Old  Nannie  "  Good-night,"  while  Bel- 
lew,  unnoticed,  slipped  certain  coins  upon  a 
corner  of  the  chimney-piece.  So,  old  Nannie 
blessed  them,  and  theirs,  —  past,  present,  and 
future,  thoroughly  and  completely,  with  a  fine 
comprehensiveness  that  only  a  genuinely  ac- 
complished old  witch  might  hope  to  attain  to, 
and,  following  them  to  the  door,  paused  there 
with  one  shrivelled,  claw-like  hand  up-lifted 
towards  the  sky: 

* '  At  the  full  0 '  the  moon,  tall  sir !  "  she  re- 
peated, ' '  at  the  full  o '  the  moon !  As  for  you, 
my  dark-eyed  lady,  I  say,  by  force  you  shall  be 
wooed,  and  by  force  ye  shall  be  wed,  aye !  aye ! 
—  but  there  is  no  man  strong  enough  except  he 
have  the  Tiger-Mark  upon  him.  Old  Nannie 
knows,  —  she 's  seen  it  in  the  ink,  dreamed  it  in 
the  fire,  and  read  it  all  in  your  pretty  hand. 
And  now  —  thank  ye  for  the  tea,  my  pretty, 
and  God  bless  ye  for  the  good  weed,  and  just 
so  sure  as  you've  been  good,  and  kind  to  old 
Nannie,  so  shall  Fortune  be  good  and  kind  to 
you.  Miss  Anthea." 

''  Poor  old  Nannie!  "  said  Anthea,  as  they 
went  on  down  the  grassy  lane,  ''  she  is  so  very 
grateful  for  so  little.  And  she  is  such  a  gentle 
old  creature  really,  though  the  country  folk  do 


THE   MONEY   MOON  113 

call  her  a  witch  and  are  afraid  of  her  because 
they  say  she  has  the  '  evil  eye,'  —  which  is 
ridiculous,  of  course!  But  nobody  ever  goes 
near  her,  and  she  is  dreadfully  lonely,  poor  old 
thing!  " 

"  And  so  that  is  why  you  come  to  sit  with 
her,  and  let  her  talk  to  you?  "  enquired  Bellew, 
staring  up  at  the  moon. 

"  Yes." 

"  And  do  you  believe  in  her  dreams,  and 
visions?  " 

"-No,  —  of  course  not!  "  answered  Anthea, 
rather  hurriedly,  and  with  a  deeper  colour  in 
her  cheeks,  though  Bellew  was  still  intent  upon 
the  moon.  ''You  don't  either,  —  do  you?" 
she  enquired,  seeing  he  was  silent. 

*'  Well,  I  don't  quite  know,"  he  answered 
slowly, ''  but  she  is  rather  a  wonderful  old  lady, 
I  think." 

"  Yes,  she  has  wonderful  thick  hair  still," 
nodded  Anthea,  **  and  she's  not  a  bit  deaf,  and 
her  eyes  are  as  clear,  and  sharp  as  ever  they 
were." 

**  Yes,  but  I  wasn't  meaning  her  eyes,  or  her 
hair,  or  her  hearing." 

"  Oh,  —  then  pray  what  were  you  pleased  to 
mean?  " 

"  Did  you  happen  to  notice  what  she  said 


114  THE   MONEY   MOON 

about  a  —  er  —  Man  with  a  —  Tiger-Mark?*' 
enquired  Bellew,  still  gazing  up  at  the  moon. 

Anthea  laughed: 

^' The  Man  with  the  Tiger-Mark,  —  of 
course!  he  has  been  much  in  her  dreams, 
lately,  and  she  has  talked  of  him  a  great 
deal,—  " 

''  Has  she?  "  said  Bellew,  "  ha!  " 

**  Yes,  —  her  mind  is  full  of  strange  twists, 
and  fancies,  —  you  see  she  is  so  very  old, — 
and  she  loves  to  tell  me  her  dreams,  and  read 
the  future  for  me." 

"  Though,  of  course,  you  don't  believe  it," 
said  Bellew. 

'*  Believe  it!  "  Anthea  repeated,  and  walked 
some  dozen  paces,  or  so,  before  she  answered, 
—  '^  no,  of  course  not." 

*'  Then  —  none  of  your  fortune,  —  nothing 
she  told  you  has  ever  come  true?  " 

Once  more  Anthea  hesitated,  this  time  so 
long  that  Bellew  turned  from  his  moon-gazing 
to  look  at  her. 

"  I  mean,"  he  went  on,  *'  has  none  of  it  ever 
come  true,  —  about  this  Man  with  the  Tiger- 
Mark,  for  instance?  " 

*' No,  —  oh  no!"  answered  Anthea,  rather 
hastily,  and  laughed  again.  *'  Old  Nannie  has 
seen   him   in   her    dreams  —  everywhere,  —  in 


THE   MONEY   MOON  115 

India,  and  Africa,  and  China ;  in  hot  countries, 
and  cold  countries  —  oh!  Nannie  has  seen  him 
everywhere,  but  I  have  seen  him  —  nowhere, 
and,  of  course,  I  never  shall." 

"  All!  "  said  Bellew,  "  and  she  reads  him  al- 
ways in  your  fortune,  does  she?  " 

**  And  I  listen  very  patiently,"  Antliea 
nodded,  *'  because  it  pleases  her  so  much,  and 
it  is  all  so  very  harmless,  after  all,  isn't  it?  " 

*'  Yes,"  answered  Bellew,  *'  and  very  won- 
derful! " 

"Wonderful?  —  poor  old  Nannie's  fancies! 
• — Wliat  do  you  mean  by  wonderful?  " 

"  Upon  my  word,  I  hardly  know,"  said  Bel- 
lew, shakiufi:  his  head,  ''  but  '  there  are  more 
things  in  heaven,  and  earth,'  etc.,  you  know, 
and  this  is  one  of  them." 

"Really!  —  now  you  grow  mysterious,  Mr. 
Bellew." 

"  Like  the  night!  "  he  answered,  turning  to 
aid  her  across  the  impertinent  brook  that 
chuckled  at  them,  and  laughed  after  them,  as 
only  such  a  very  impertinent  brook  possibly 
could. 

So,  betimes,  they  reached  the  stile,  and 
crossed  it,  this  time  without  mishap,  despite 
the  lurking  nail  and,  all  too  soon  for  Bellew, 
had  traversed  the  orchard,  and  were  come  to 


116  THE   MONEY   MOON 

the  garden  where  the  roses  all  hung  so  still 
upon  their  stems  that  they  might  have  been 
asleep,  and  filling  the  air  with  the  perfume  of 
their  dreams. 

And  here  they  paused,  perhaps  because  of  the 
witchery  of  the  moon,  perhaps  to  listen  to  the 
voice  of  the  nightingale  who  sang  on  more  glo- 
riously than  ever.  Yet,  though  they  stood  so 
close  together,  their  glances  seldom  met,  and 
they  were  very  silent.  But  at  last,  as  though 
making  up  her  mind,  Anthea  spoke: 

"  What  did  you  mean  when  you  said  Old 
Nannie's  dreams  were  so  wonderful?  "  she 
asked. 

**  I'll  show  you!  "  he  answered,  and,  while 
he  spoke,  slipped  off  his  coat,  and  drawing  up 
his  shirt-sleeve,  held  out  a  muscular,  white  arm 
towards  her.  He  held  it  out  in  the  full  radiance 
of  the  moon,  and  thus,  looking  down  at  it,  her 
eyes  grew  suddenly  wide,  and  her  breath  caught 
strangely  as  surprise  gave  place  to  something 
else ;  for  there,  plain  to  be  seen  upon  the  white 
flesh,  were  three  long  scars  that  wound  up  from 
elbow  to  shoulder.  And  so,  for  a  while,  they 
stood  thus,  she  looking  at  his  arm,  and  he  at 
her. 

"  Why —  "  said  she  at  last,  finding  voice  in 
a  little  gasp,  —  *'  why  then —  *' 


THE   MONEY   MOON  117 

**  I  am  the  Man  with  the  Tigor  Mark!  "  he 
said,  smiling  his  slow,  placid  smile.  Now,  as 
his  eyes  looked  down  into  hers,  she  flushed  sud- 
den, and  hot,  and  her  glance  wavered,  and  fell 
beneath  his. 

**  Oh!  "  she  cried,  and,  with  the  word,  turned 
about,  and  fled  from  him  into  the  house. 


CHAPTER   XII 

^n  which  may  he  found  a  full,  true,  and  particu- 
lar account  of  the  sale 

■**  Uncle  Pokges,  there's  a  little  man  in  the  hall 
"with  a  red,  red  nose,  an'  a  blue,  blue  chin, —  " 

'*  Yes,  I've  seen  him,  —  also  his  nose,  and 
chin,  my  Porges." 

**  But  he's  sticking  little  papers  with  num- 
bers on  them,  aU  over  my  Auntie  Anthea's 
chairs,  —  an'  tables.  Now  what  do  you  s'pose 
lie's  doing  that  for!  " 

*'  Who  knows?  It's  probably  all  on  account 
of  his  red  nose,  and  blue  chin,  my  Porges. 
Anyway,  don't  worry  about  him,  —  let  us 
rather,  find  our  Auntie  Anthea." 

They  found  her  in  the  hall.  And  it  was  a 
tiall,  here,  at  Dapplemere,  wide,  and  high,  and 
^th  a  minstrel's  gallery  at  one  end;  a  hall 
that,  years  and  years  ago,  had  often  rung  with 
the  clash  of  men-at-arms,  and  echoed  with  loud, 
and  jovial  laughter,  for  this  was  the  most  an- 
cient part  of  the  Manor. 

It  looked  rather  bare,  and  barren,  just  now, 
^or  the  furniture  was  all  moved  out  of  place,  — 


THE   MONEY   MOON  119 

ranged  neatly  round  the  walls,  and  stacked  at 
the  farther  end,  beneath  the  gallery  where  the« 
little  man  in  question,  blue  of  chin,  and  red  of 
nose,  was  hovering  about  it,  dabbing  little  tick- 
ets on  chairs,  and  tables,  —  even  as  Small'. 
Porges  had  said. 

And,  in  the  midst  of  it  all,  stood  Anthea,  a-, 
desolate  figure,  Bellew  thought,  who,  upon  his 
entrance,  bent  her  head  to  draw  on  her  driving- 
gloves,  for  she  was  waiting  for  the  dog-cari 
wliich  was  to  bear  her,  and  Small  Porges  to- 
Cranbrook,  far  away  from  the  hollow  tap  of  thfr 
auctioneer's  hammer. 

**  "We're  getting  rid  of  some  of  the  old  furni-. 
ture,  you  see,  Mr.  Bellew,"  she  said,  laying  her 
hand  on  an  antique  cabinet  nearby,  —  "we 
really  have  much  more  than  we  ever  use." 

"  Yes,"  said  Bellew.  But  he  noticed  that  her 
eyes  were  very  dark  and  wistful,  despite  her- 
light  tone,  and  that  she  had  laid  her  hand  upon, 
the  old  cabinet  with  a  touch  very  like  a  caress. 

"  Why  is  that  man's  nose  so  awfull'  red,  and^ 
his  chin  so  blue,  Auntie  Anthea?  "  enquire^ 
Small  Porges,  in  a  hissing  stage  whisper. 

"  Tlush  Georgy!  —  I  don't  know,"  said  Ant-. 
thea. 

*'  An'  why  is  he  sticking  his  little  nnmberS; 
all  over  our  best  furniture t  " 


120  THE   MONEY  MOON 

'*  That  is  to  guide  the  auctioneer." 

*'  "Where  to,  —  an'  what  is  an  auctioneer?  ^^ 

But,  at  this  moment,  hearing  the  wheels  of 
the  dog-cart  at  the  door,  Anthea  turned,  and 
hastened  out  into  the  sunshine. 

"  A  lovely  day  it  do  be  for  drivin  V  said 
Adam  touching  his  hat,  ''an'  Bess  be  thinMn' 
the  same,  I  do  believe!  "  and  he  patted  the 
glossy  coat  of  the  mare,  who  arched  her  neck, 
and  pawed  the  gravel  with  an  impatient  hoof. 
Lightly,  and  nimbly  Anthea  swung  herself  up 
to  the  high  seat,  turning  to  make  Small  Forges 
secure  beside  her,  as  Bellew  handed  him  up. 

**  You'll  —  look  after  things  for  me, 
Adam?  "  said  Anthea,  glancing  back  wistfully 
into  the  dim  recesses  of  the  cool,  old  hall. 

'*  Aye,  —  I  will  that.  Miss  Anthea!  " 

**  Mr.  Bellew,  we  can  find  room  for  you  if 
you  care  to  come  with  us?  " 

"  Thanks,"  said  he,  shaking  his  head,  "  but 
I  rather  think  I'll  stay  here,  and  —  er  —  help 
Adam  to  —  to  —  look  after  things,  if  you  don't 
mind. ' ' 

**  Then,  —  *  Good-bye!  '  "  said  Anthea,  and, 
nodding  to  Adam,  he  gave  the  mare  her  head, 
and  off  they  went. 

**  Good-bye!"  cried  Small  Forges,  **  an' 
ihank  you  for  the  shilling  Uncle  Forges,** 


THE   MONEY   MOON  12] 

**  The  mare  is  —  er  —  rather  fresli  tliis 
morning,  isn't  slie,  Adam?  "  enquired  Belle w, 
"watching  the  dog-cart's  rapid  course. 

**  Fresh  sir?  " 

**  And  that's  rather  a  —  er  —  dangerous  sort 
of  thing  for  a  woman  to  drive,  isn't  it?  '* 

"  Meanin'  the  dog-cart,  sir?  " 

'*  Meaning  the  dog-cart,  Adam." 

**  Wliy,  Lord  love  ye,  Mr.  Belloo  sir!  "  cried 
Adam  with  his  great  laugh,  **  there  ain't  no- 
body can  'andle  the  ribbons  better  than  Miss 
Anthea,  —  there  ain't  a  horse  as  she  can't 
drive,  —  ah !  or  ride,  for  that  matter,  —  not  no- 
wheres,  sir." 

*'  Hum!  "  said  Bellew,  and,  having  watched 
the  dog-cart  out  of  sight,  he  turned  and  fol- 
lowed Adam  into  the  stables. 

And  here,  sitting  upon  a  bale  of  hay,  they 
emoked  many  pipes  together  in  earnest  con- 
verse, until  such  time  as  the  sale  should  begin. 

As  the  day  advanced,  people  began  arriving 
in  twos  and  threes,  and,  among  the  first,  the 
Auctioneer  liimself.  A  jovial-faced  man,  was 
this  Auctioneer,  with  jovial  manner,  and  a 
jovial  smile.  Indeed,  his  joviality  seemed, 
somehow  or  other,  to  have  got  into  the  very 
buttons  of  his  coat,  for  they  fairly  winked,  and 
twinkled  with  joviality.     Upon  catching  sight 


122  THE   MONEY   MOON 

of  the  furniture  he  became,  if  possible,  more 
jovial  than  ever,  and  beckoning  to  bis  assistant, 
—  that  is  to  say  to  the  small  man  with  the  red 
nose  and  the  blue  chin,  who,  it  seemed  an- 
swered to  the  name  of  Theodore,  —  he  clapped 
him  jovially  upon  the  back,  —  (rather  as, 
though  he  were  knocking  him  down  to  some  un- 
fortunate bidder),  —  and  immediately  fell  into- 
business  converse  with  him,  —  albeit  jovial 
still. 

But  all  the  while  intending  purchasers  were 
arriving;  they  came  on  horse,  and  afoot,  and 
in  conveyances  of  every  sort  and  kind,  and  the 
tread  of  their  feet,  and  the  buzz  of  their  voices, 
awoke  unwonted  echoes  in  the  old  place.  And 
still  they  came,  from  far  and  near,  until  some- 
hundred  odd  people  were  crowded  into  the  halL 

Conspicuous  among  them  was  a  large  man 
with  a  fat,  red  neck  which  he  was  continually 
mopping  at,  and  rubbing  with  a  vivid  bandanna 
handkercliief  scarcely  less  red.  Indeed,  red 
seemed  to  be  his  pervading  colour,  for  his 
hair  was  red,  liis  hands  were  red,  and  his  face^ 
heavy  and  round,  was  reddest  of  all,  out  of 
whose  flaming  circumference  two  diminutive 
but  very  sharp  eyes  winked  and  blinked  con- 
tinually. His  voice,  like  himself,  was  large 
with  a  peculiar  brassy  ring  to  it  that  penetrated 


THE   MONEY   MOON  123 

to  the  farthest  corners  and  recesses  of  the  old 
hall.  He  was,  beyond  all  donbt,  a  man  of  sub- 
stance, and  of  no  small  importance,  for  he  was 
greeted  deferentially  on  all  hands,  and  it  was 
to  be  noticed  that  people  elbowed  each  other  to 
make  way  for  him,  as  peoi)le  ever  will  before 
substance,  and  property.  To  some  of  them  he 
nodded,  to  some  he  spoke,  and  with  others  he 
even  laughed,  albeit  he  was  of  a  solemn,  sober, 
and  serious  nature,  as  becomes  a  man  of  prop- 
erty, and  substance. 

Between  whiles,  however,  he  bestowed  his 
undi\'ided  attention  upon  the  furniture.  He  sat 
down  suddenly  and  heavily,  in  cliairs;  he  pum- 
melled them  with  his  plump,  red  fists,  — 
whereby  to  test  their  springs;  he  opened  the 
doors  of  cabinets ;  he  peered  into  drawers ;  he 
rapped  upon  tables,  and  altogether  comported 
himself  as  a  thoroughly  knowing  man  should, 
who  is  not  to  be  hocussed  by  veneer,  or  taken 
in  by  the  shine,  and  splendour  of  well  applied 
bees-wax,  Bellew,  watching  all  this  from  wliore 
he  sat  screened  from  the  throng  by  a  great 
carved  sideboard,  and  divers  chairs,  and  what- 
nots,—  drew  rather  harder  at  his  pipe,  and, 
chancing  to  catch  Adam's  eye,  beckoned  him  to 
approach. 

**  "Who    is    that    round,    red    man,    yonder, 


124  THE   MONEY  MOON 

Adam?  "  lie  enquired,  nodding  to  where  the  in- 
dividual in  question  was  engaged  at  that  mo- 
ment poking  at  something  or  other  with  a  large, 
sausage-like  finger. 

"  That!  "  replied  Adam  in  a  tone  of  pro- 
found disgust,  '^  that  be  Mr.  Grimes,  o'  Cran- 
brook,  sir.  Calls  hisself  a  corn-chandler, — 
but  I  calls  'im,  —  well,  never  mind  what,  sir,  — 
only  it  weren't  at  corn-chandling  as  'e  made 
all  'is  money,  sir,  —  and  it  be  him  as  we  all 
work,  and  slave  for,  —  here  at  Dapplemere 
Farm." 

**  What  do  you  mean,  Adam?  " 

'*  I  mean  as  it  be  him  as  holds  the  mortgage 
on  Dapplemere,  sir." 

'*  Ah,  —  and  how  much?  " 

**  Over  three  thousand  pound,  Mr.  Belloo 
sir!  "  sighed  Adam,  with  a  hopeless  shake  of 
the  head,  **  an'  that  be  a  powerful  lot  o'  money, 


sir." 


Bellew  thought  of  the  sums  he  had  lavished 
upon  his  yacht,  upon  his  three  racing  cars,  and 
certain  other  extravagances.  Three  thousand 
pounds,  —  fifteen  thousand  dollars!  It  would 
make  her  a  free  woman,  —  independent,  — 
happy!  Just  fifteen  thousand  dollars,  —  and 
he  had  thrown  away  more  than  that  upon  a 
poker  game,  before  now! 


THE   MONEY   MOON  125 

**  Lord!  "  exclaimed  Adam,  *'  the  very  sight 
o'  that  theer  Grimes's  pig  eyes  a-starin'  at 
Miss  Anthea's  furnitur'  do  make  the  Old  Adam 
rise  up  in  me  to  that  amazin'  extent,  Mr.  Bel- 
loo  sir  —  wliy,  jest  look  at  'im  a-thmnpin'  an* 
a  poundin'  at  that  theer  chair!  "  Saying 
which,  Adam  turned,  and  elbowing  his  way  to 
where  Mr.  Grimes  was  in  the  act  of  testing 
the  springs  of  an  easy  chair,  he  promptly, — 
and  as  thougli  forced  by  a  struggling  mob,  — 
fell  up  against  Mr.  Grimes,  and  jostled  Mr. 
Grimes,  and  trod  heavily  upon  the  toes  of  Mr. 
Grimes,  and  all  with  an  expression  of  the  most 
profound  unconsciousness  and  abstraction, 
which,  upon  the  indignant  Corn-chandler's  loud 
expostulations,  immediately  changed  to  a  look 
of  innocent  surprise. 

**  Can't  you  look  where  you're  going?  — 
you  clumsy  fool!"  fumed  the  irate  Grimes, 
redder  of  neck  than  ever. 

"  Ax  your  pardon,  Mr.  Grimes,"  said  Adam 
solemnly,  ''  but  what  wi'  people's  logs,  an* 
cheer  logs,  an'  the  legs  o'  tables,  —  not  to  men- 
tion sideboards  an'  cab'nets,  —  which,  though 
not  'aving  no  legs,  ain't  to  be  by  no  manner  o* 
means  despised  therefore,  —  w'ot  wi'  this  an' 
that,  an'  t'other,  I  am  that  con-fined,  or  as  you 
might  say,  con-fused,  I  don't  know  which  legs 


126  THE   MONEY   MOON 

is  mine,  or  yourn,  or  anybody  else's.  Mr. 
Grimes  sir,  —  I  makes  so  bold  as  to  ax  your 
pardon  all  over  again,  sir."  During  wliicli 
speech,  Adam  contrived,  once  more,  to  fall 
against,  to  tread  npon,  and  to  jostle  tbe  highly 
incensed  Mr.  Grimes  back  into  the  crowd  again. 
Thereafter  he  became  a  Nemesis  to  Mr.  Grimes, 
hannting  him  through  the  jungle  of  chairs,  and 
tables,  pursuing  him  into  distant  corners,  and 
shady  places,  where,  so  sure  as  the  sausage- 
like finger  poised  itself  for  an  interrogatory 
poke,  or  the  fat,  red  fist  doubled  itself  for  a 
spring-testing  punch,  the  innocent-seeming 
Adam  would  thereupon  fall  against  him  from 
the  rear,  sideways,  or  in  front. 

Meanwhile,  Bellew  sat  in  his  secluded  corner, 
watching  the  crowd  through  the  blue  wreaths 
of  his  pipe,  but  thinking  of  her  who,  brave 
though  she  was,  had  nevertheless  run  away 
from  it  all  at  the  last  moment.  Presently,  how- 
ever, he  was  aware  that  the  Corn-chandler  had 
seated  himself  on  the  other  side  of  the  chiffo- 
nier, puffing,  and  panting  with  heat,  and  indig- 
nation, —  where  he  was  presently  joined  by  an- 
other individual,  —  a  small,  rat-eyed  man,  who 
bid  Mr.  Grimes  a  deferential  **  Good-day!  " 

''  That  there  Adam,"  puffed  the  Corn-chan- 
dler, ''  that  there  Adam  ought  to  be  throwed 


THE   MONEY   MOOX  127 

out  into  the  stables  where  he  belongs.  I  never 
see  a  man  as  was  so  much  growed  to  feet  and 
elbers,  in  all  mv  days!  He  ought  to  be  took," 
repeated  the  Corn-chandler,  "  and  shook,  and 
throwed  out  into  the  yard." 

"  Yes,"  nodded  the  other,  *'  took,  and  shook, 
and  throwed  out  —  neck,  and  crop,  sir !  And 
now,  —  what  might  you  think  o'  the  furniture, 
Mr.  Grimes?  " 

"  So  so.  Parsons,"  nodded  Grimes,  **  so 
so!  " 

"  Shall  you  buy?  " 

"  I  am  a-going,"  said  the  Corn-chandler  with 
much  deliberation,  **  I  am  a-going  to  take  them 
tapestry  cheers,  sir,  likewise  the  grand-feyther 
clock  in  the  corner  here,  likewise  the  four-post 
bed-stead  wi'  the  carved  'ead-board,  —  and  — 
most  particular,  Parsons,  I  shall  take  tliis  here 
side-board.  There  ain't  another  piece  like  this 
in  the  county,  as  I  know  of,  —  solid  ma-hogany, 
sir!  —  and  the  carvings!"  and  herewith,  he 
gave  two  loud  double  knocks  upon  the  article 
of  furniture  in  question.  '*  Oh!  I've  'ad  my 
eye  on  tliis  side-board  for  j^ears,  and  years,  — 
knowed  I'd  get  it  some  day,  too,  —  the  only 
wonder  is  as  she  ain't  had  to  sell  up  afore 
now." 

"  Meaning  Miss  Anthea,  sir?  " 


128  THE   MONEY   MOON 

*'  Ah,  —  her!  I  say  as  it's  a  wonder  to  me, 
—  wo't  wi'  the  interest  on  the  mortgage  I  'old 
on  the  place,  and  one  thing  and  another,  —  it 's 
a  wonder  to  me  as  she's  kept  her  'ead  above 
water  so  long.  But  —  mark  me,  Parsons,  mark 
me,  —  she  '11  be  selling  again  soon,  and  next 
time  it  '11  be  lock,  stock,  and  barrel,  Parsons !  ' ' 

**  Well,  I  don't  'old  wi'  women  farmers,  my- 
self! "  nodded  Parsons.  *'  But,  —  as  to  that 
cup-board  over  there,  —  Sheraton,  I  think,  — 
what  might  you  suppose  it  to  be  worth,  —  be- 
twixt friends,  now?  "  enquired  Parsons,  the 
rat  eyed. 

*'  Can't  say  till  I've  seed  it,  and  likewise  felt 
it,"  answered  the  Corn-chandler,  rising.  "  Let 
me  lay  my  'and  upon  it,  and  I  '11  tell  you  —  to 
a  shilling,"  and  here,  they  elbowed  their  way 
into  the  crowd.  But  Bellew  sat  there,  chin  in 
hand,  quite  oblivious  to  the  fact  that  his  pipe 
was  out,  long  since. 

The  tall,  old  grand-father  clock  ticking  in 
leisurely  fashion  in  the  corner  behind  him, 
solemn  and  sedate,  as  it  had  done  since,  (as  the 
neat  inscription  upon  the  dial  testified),  it  had 
first  been  made  in  the  Year  of  Grace  1732,  by 
one  Jabez  Havesham,  of  London ;  —  this  an- 
cient time-piece  now  uttered  a  sudden  wheeze, 
(which,     considering     its     great     age,     could 


THE    MONEY   MOON  129 

scarcely  be  wondered  at),  and,  thereafter,  the 
wheezing  having  subsided,  gave  forth  a  soft, 
and  mellow  chime,  proclaiming  to  all  and  sun- 
dry, that  it  was  twelve  o'clock.  Hereupon,  the 
Auctioneer,  bustling  to  and  fro  with  his  hat 
upon  the  back  of  liis  head,  consulted  his  watch, 
nodded  to  the  red  nosed,  blue-chinned  Theo- 
dore, and,  perching  himself  above  the  crowd, 
gave  three  sharp  knocks  with  his  hammer. 

**  Gentlemen!  "  he  began,  but  here  he  was 
interrupted  by  a  loud  voice  upraised  in  hot 
anger. 

*  *  Confound  ye  for  a  clumsy  rascal !  Will  ye 
keep  them  elbers  o'  yourn  to  out  o'  my  weskit, 
eh?  Will  ye  keep  them  big  feet  o'  yourn  to 
yeself?  If  there  ain't  room  enough  for  ye, — 
out  ye  go,  d'ye  hear  —  I'll  have  ye  took,  and 
shook,  —  and  throwed  out  where  ye  belong;  so 
jest  mind  where  ye  come  a  trampiu',  and  a 
treadin'. " 

"  Tread!  "  repeated  Adam,  "  Lord!  where 
am  I  to  tread?  If  I  steps  back'ard  I  tread  on 
ye,  —  If  I  steps  sideways  I  tread  on  ye,  if  I 
steps  for-ard  I  tread  on  ye.  It  do  seem  to  me 
as  I  can't  go  nowhere  but  there  you  be  a-waitin' 
to  be  trod  on,  ^Mr.  Grimes,  sir." 

Hereupon  the  Auctioneer  rapped  louder  than 
ever,  upon   which,  the  clamour  subsiding,  he 


130  THE   MONEY   MOON 

smiled  his  most  jovial  smile,  and  once  more 
began : 

''  Gentlemen!  you  have  all  had  an  opportu- 
nity to  examine  the  furniture  I  am  about  to  dis- 
pose of,  and,  as  fair  minded  human  beings  I 
think  you  will  admit  that  a  finer  lot  of  genuine 
antique  was  never  offered  at  one  and  the  same 
time.  Gentlemen,  I  am  not  going  to  burst  forth 
into  laudatory  rodomontade,  (which  is  a  word, 
gentlemen  that  I  employ  only  among  an  en- 
lightened community  such  as  I  now  have  the 
honour  of  addressing),  —  neither  do  I  propose 
to  waste  your  time  in  purposeless  verbiage, 
(which  is  another  of  the  same  kind,  gentlemen), 
—  therefore,  without  further  preface,  or  pre- 
amble, we  will  proceed  at  once  to  business.  The 
first  lot  I  have  to  offer  you  is  a  screen,  —  six 
foot  high,  —  bring  out  the  screen,  Theodore! 
There  it  is,  gentlemen,  —  open  it  out,  Theo- 
dore! Observe,  Gentlemen  it  is  carved  rose- 
wood, the  panels  hand  painted,  and  represent- 
ing shepherds,  and  shepherdesses,  disporting 
themselves  under  a  tree  with  banjo  and  guitar. 
Now  what  am  I  offered  for  this  hand-painted, 
antique  screen,  —  come?  '' 

' '  Fifteen  shillings !  ' '  from  someone  deep 
hidden  in  the  crowd. 

*  *  Start  as  low  as  you  like,  gentlemen !    I  am 


THE    MONEY   MOON  131 

offered  a  miserable  fifteen  shillings  for  a  genu- 
ine, hand-painted —  " 

**  Sixteen!  "  this  from  a  long,  loose-limbed 
fellow  with  a  patch  over  one  eye,  and  another 
on  his  cheek. 

**  A  pound!  "  said  Adam,  promptly. 

* '  A  guinea !  ' '  nodded  he  of  the  patches. 

*  *  Twenty-five  shillin  's !  "  said  Adam. 

*  *  At  twenty-five  shillings !  ' '  cried  the  Auc- 
tioneer, *' any  advance?  —  a  genuine,  hand- 
painted,  antique  screen,  —  going  at  twenty- 
five  —  at  twenty-five,  —  going  —  going  — 
gone!  To  tlio  large  gentleman  in  the  neck- 
cloth, Theodore!  " 

**  Theer  be  that  Job  Jagway,  sir,"  said 
Adam,  leaning  across  the  side-board  to  impart 
this  information,  — ''  over  yonder,  Mr.  Belloo 
sir,  —  'im  as  was  bidding  for  the  screen,  —  the 
tall  chap  wi'  the  patches.  Two  patches  be 
pretty  good,  but  I  do  wish  as  I'd  give  him  a 
couple  more,  while  I  was  about  it,  Mr.  Belloo 
sir."  Here,  the  Auctioneer's  voice  put  an  end 
to  Adam's  self-reproaches,  and  he  turned  back 
to  the  business  in  hand. 

'*  The  next  lot  I'm  going  to  dispose  of,  gen- 
tlemen, is  a  fine  set  of  six  chairs  with  carved 
antique  backs,  and  upholstered  in  tapestry. 
Also   two    arm-chairs   to   match,  —  wheel    'em 


132  THE   MONEY   MOON 

out,  Theodore!  Now  what  is  your  price  for 
these  eight  fine  pieces,  —  look  'em  over  and  bid 
accordingly. ' ' 

* '  Thirty  shillings !  ' '  Again  from  the  depths 
of  the  crowd. 

**Ha!  ha!  —  you  joke  sir!"  laughed  the 
Auctioneer,  rubbing  his  hands  in  his  most 
jovial  manner, '  *  you  joke !  I  can 't  see  you,  but 
you  joke  of  course,  and  I  laugh  accordingly, 
ha!  ha!  Thirty  shillings  for  eight,  fine,  an- 
tique, tapestried,  hand-carved  chairs, —  Oh 
very  good,  —  excellent,  upon  my  soul !  '  * 

it  Tiiree  pound!  "  said  the  fiery-necked  Corn- 
chandler. 

**  Guineas!  "  said  the  rat-eyed  Parsons. 

"  Four  pound!  "  nodded  the  Corn-chandler. 

*'  Four  pound  ten!  "  roared  Adam. 

"  Five!  "  nodded  Grimes,  edging  away  from 
Adam's  elbow. 

' '  Six  pound  ten !  ' '  cried  Adam. 

**  Seven!  "  —  from  Parsons. 

^' Eight!  "  said  Grimes. 

**  Ten!  "  roared  Adam,  growing  desperate. 

"  Eleven!  "  said  Grimes,  beginning  to  mop 
at  his  neck  again. 

Adam  hesitated;  eleven  pounds  seemed  so 
very  much  for  those  chairs,  that  he  had  seen 
Prudence  and  the  rosy-cheeked  maids  dust  reg- 


THE   MONEY   MOON  133 

Tilarly  every  morning,  and  then,  —  it  was  not 
his  money,  after  all.  Therefore  Adam  hesi- 
tated, and  glanced  wistfully  towards  a  certain 
distant  corner. 

* '  At  eleven,  —  at  eleven  pounds !  —  this  fine 
suite  of  hand-carved  antique  chairs,  at  eleven 
pounds !  —  at  eleven !  —  at  eleven,  going  —  go- 
ing!— " 

'*  Fifteen!  "  said  a  voice  from  the  distant 
corner;  whereupon  Adam  drew  a  great  sigh 
of  relief,  while  the  Corn-chandler  contorted 
himself  in  liis  efforts  to  glare  at  Bellew  round 
the  side-board. 

**  Fifteen  pounds!  "  chanted  the  Auctioneer, 
**  I  have  fifteen,  —  I  am  given  fifteen,  —  any 
advance?  These  eight  antique  chairs,  going  at 
fifteen !  —  going !  for  the  last  time,  —  going !  — 
gone!  Sold  to  the  gentleman  in  the  corner 
behind  the  side-board,  Theodore." 

"  They  were  certainly  fine  chairs,  Mr. 
Grimes!  "  said  Parsons  shaking  his  head. 

^*  So  so!  "  said  the  Corn-chandler,  sitting 
down  heavily,  ''  So  so.  Parsons!  "  and  he 
turned  to  glare  at  Bellew,  who,  lying  back 
in  an  easy  chair  with  his  legs  upon  another, 
puffed  at  his  pipe,  and  regarded  all  things  with 
a  placid  interest. 

It  is  not  intended  to  record  in  these  pages 


134  THE   MONEY   MOON 

all  tlie  bids  that  were  made  as  the  afternoon 
advanced,  for  that  would  be  fatiguing  to  write, 
and  a  weariness  to  read ;  suffice  it  that  lots  were 
put  up,  and  regularly  knocked  down  but  always 
to  Bellew,  or  Adam.  Which  last,  encouraged  by 
Bellew's  bold  advances,  gaily  roared  down,  and 
constantly  out-bid  all  competitors  with  such  un- 
hesitating pertinacity,  that  murmurs  rose,  and 
swelled  into  open  complaint.  In  the  midst  of 
which,  the  fiery-visaged  Corn-chandler,  purple 
now,  between  heat,  and  vexation,  loudly  de- 
manded that  he  lay  down  some  substantial  de- 
posit upon  what  he  had  already  purchased, 
failing  which,  he  should,  there  and  then,  be 
took,  and  shook,  and  throwed  out  into  the  yard. 

'  *  Neck,  and  crop !  ' '  added  Mr.  Parsons. 

*'  That  seems  to  be  a  fair  proposition," 
smiled  the  Auctioneer,  who  had  already  experi- 
enced some  doubts  as  to  Adam's  financial  capa- 
bilities, yet  with  his  joviality  all  unruffled, — 
^'  that  seems  to  be  a  very  fair  proposal  indeed. 
If  the  gentleman  will  put  down  some  substan- 
tial deposit  now —  " 

**  Aye,  for  sure!  "  nodded  Adam,  stepping 
forward;  and,  unbuttoning  a  capacious  pocket 
he  drew  out  a  handful  of  bank-notes,  ''  shall  I 
gi'e  ye  a  hundred  pound,  —  or  will  fifty  be 
enough?  " 


THE   MONEY   MOON  135 

"  "Wliy,"  said  the  Auctioneer,  rubbing  his 
hands  as  he  eyed  the  fistful  of  bank-notes,  "  ten 
pound  will  be  all  that  is  necessary,  sir,  —  just 
to  ensure  good  faith,  you  understand." 

Hereupon,  Bollew  beckoning  to  Adam, 
handed  him  a  like  amount  which  was  duly  de- 
posited with  the  Auctioneer. 

So,  once  more,  the  bidding  began,  —  once 
more  lots  were  put  up,  —  and  knocked  down  — 
now  to  Adam,  and  now  to  Bellew.  The  bed 
with  the  carved  head-board  had  fallen  to  Adam 
after  a  lively  contest  between  him,  and  Par- 
sons, and  the  Com-chandler,  which  had  left 
the  latter  in  a  state  of  perspiring  profanity, 
from  which  he  was  by  no  means  recovered, 
when  the  Auctioneer  once  more  rapped  for 
silence. 

**  And  now,  gentlemen,  last,  but  by  no  means 
least,  we  come  to  the  gem  of  the  sale,  —  a  side- 
board, gentlemen,  —  a  magnificent,  ma-hogany 
side-board,  being  a  superb  example  of  the  carv- 
er's art!  Here  is  a  side-board,  gentlemen, 
which,  —  if  it  can  be  equalled,  —  cannot  be  ex- 
celled —  no,  gentlemen,  not  if  you  were  to 
search  all  the  baronial  halls,  and  lordly  man- 
sions in  this  land  of  mansions,  and  baronials. 
It  is  a  truly  magnificoiit  piece,  in  perfect  condi- 
tion, —  and  to  be  sold  at  your  own  price.    I  say 


136  THE   MONEY  MOON 

no  more.  Gentlemen,  —  how  much  for  this 
magnificent,  ma-hogany  piece?  " 

'*  Ten  pound!  " 

"  Eleven!  " 

''Fifteen!" 

"  Seventeen!  "  said  Adam,  who  was  rapidly 
drawing  near  the  end  of  his  resources. 

*  *  Eighteen !  ' '    This  from  Job  Jagway. 

''  Go  easy  there.  Job!  "  hissed  Adam,  edging 
a  little  nearer  to  him,  ' '  go  easy,  now,  —  Nine- 
teen! " 

''  Come,  come  Gentlemen!  "  remonstrated 
the  Auctioneer,  *'  this  isn't  a  coal-scuttle,  nor 
a  broom,  nor  yet  a  pair  of  tongs,  —  this  is  a 
magnificent  ma-hogany  side-board,  —  and  you 
offer  me  —  nineteen  pound!  " 

"  Twenty!  "  said  Job. 

''  Twenty-one!  "  roared  Adam,  making  his 
last  bid,  and  then,  turning,  he  hissed  in  Job's 
unwilling  ear,  —  ''go  any  higher,  an'  I'll 
pound  ye  to  a  jelly,  Job !  ' ' 

''  Twenty-five!  "  said  Parsons. 

''  Twenty-seven!  " 

"  Twenty-eight!  " 

''  Thirty!  "  nodded  Grimes,  scowling  at 
Adam. 

<  i  Thirty- two !  ' '  cried  Parsons. 

*'  Thirty-six!  " 


THE   MONEY   MOON  137 

*'  Thirty-seven!  " 

*'  Forty!  "  nodded  Grimes. 

**  That  drops  me,"  said  Parsons,  sighing, 
and  shaking  his  head. 

"  Ah!  "  chuckled  the  Corn-chandler,  '^  well, 
I've  waited  years  for  that  side-board,  Parsons, 
and  I  ain't  going  to  let  you  take  it  away  from 
me  —  nor  nobody  else,  sir!  " 

"At  forty!"  cried  the  Auctioneer,  "at 
forty !  —  this  magnifi  —  " 

"  One!  "  nodded  Bellew,  beginning  to  fill  his 
pipe. 

"Forty-one's  the  bid,  —  I  have  forty-one 
from  the  gent  in  the  corner —  " 

"  Forty-five!  "  growled  the  Corn-chandler. 

"  Six!  "  said  Bellew. 

"  Fifty!  "  snarled  Grimes. 

"  One!  "  said  Bellew. 

"  Gent  in  the  corner  gives  me  fifty-one!  *' 
chanted  the  Auctioneer  —  "  any  advance?  —  at 
fifty-ono  —  " 

"Fifty-five!"  said  Grimes,  beginning  to 
mop  at  his  neck  harder  than  ever. 

"  Add  ten!  "  nodded  Bellew. 

"  TMiat's  tliat?  "  cried  Grimes,  wheeling 
about. 

"  Gent  in  the  corner  offers  me  sixty-five, — 
at  sixty-five,  —  this  magnificent  piece  at  sixty- 


138  THE   MONEY   MOON 

five!  What,  are  you  all  done?  —  at  sixty-five, 
and  clieap  at  the  price,  —  come,  gentlemen,  take 
your  time,  give  it  another  look  over,  and  bid 
accordingly. ' ' 

The  crowd  had  dwindled  rapidly  during  the 
last  hour,  which  was  scarcely  to  be  wondered 
at  seeing  that  they  were  constantly  out-bid  — 
either  by  a  hoarse  voiced,  square-shouldered 
fellow  in  a  neck-cloth,  or  a  dreamy  individual 
who  lolled  in  a  corner,  and  puffed  at  a  pipe. 

But  now,  as  Grimes,  his  red  cheeks  puffed 
out,  his  little  eyes  snapping  in  a  way  that  many 
knew  meant  danger  (with  a  large  D)  —  as  the 
rich  Corn-chandler,  whose  word  was  law  to  a 
good  many,  turned  and  confronted  this  loung- 
ing, long-legged  individual,  —  such  as  remained 
closed  round  them  in  a  ring,  in  keen  expectation 
of  what  was  to  follow.  Observing  which,  the 
Corn-chandler  feeling  it  incumbent  upon  him 
now  or  never,  to  vindicate  himself  as  a  man  of 
property,  and  substance,  and  not  to  be  put 
down,  thrust  his  hands  deep  into  his  pockets, 
spread  his  legs  wide  apart,  and  stared  at  Bel- 
lew  in  a  way  that  most  people  had  found  highly 
disconcerting,  before  now.  Bellew,  however, 
seemed  wholly  unaffected,  and  went  on  imper- 
turbably  filling  his  pipe. 

*'  At  sixty-five!  "  cried  the  Auctioneer,  lean- 


THE   MONEY   MOON  139 

ing  towards  Grimes  with  his  hammGr  poised, 
' '  at  sixty-five  —  Will  you  make  it  another 
pound,  sir?  —  come,  —  what  do  you  say?  " 

"  I  say  —  no  sir!  "  returned  the  Corn-chand- 
ler, slowly,  and  impressively,  "  I  say  no,  sir, — 
I  say  —  make  it  another  —  twenty  pound, 
sir!  "  Hereupon  heads  were  shaken,  or 
nodded,  and  there  rose  the  sudden  shuffle  of 
feet  as  the  crowd  closed  in  nearer. 

**  I  get  eighty-five!  any  advance  on  eighty- 
five?  " 

"  Eighty-six!  "  said  Bellew,  settling  the  to- 
bacco in  his  pipe-bowl  with  his  thumb. 

Once  again  the  Auctioneer  leaned  over  and 
appealed  to  the  Corn-chandler,  who  stood  in 
the  same  attitude,  jingling  the  money  in  his 
pocket,  "  Come  sir,  don't  let  a  pound  or  so 
stand  between  you  and  a  side-board  that  can't 
be  matched  in  the  length  and  breadth  of  the 
United  Kingdom,  —  come,  what  do  you  say  to 
another  ten  shillings?  " 

**  I  say,  sir,"  said  Grimes,  with  his  gaze  still 
riveted  upon  Bellew,  **  I  say  —  no  sir,  —  I  say 
make  it  another  —  twenty  pound  sir!  " 

Again  there  rose  the  shuffle  of  feet,  again 
heads  were  nodded,  and  elbows  nudged  neigh- 
bouring ribs,  and  all  eyes  were  focussed  upon 
Bellew  who  was  in  the  act  of  lighting  his  pipe. 


140  THE   MONEY   MOON 

'*  One  hundred  and  six  pounds!  '*  cried  theJ 
Auctioneer,  ' '  at  one  six !  —  at  one  six !  —  " 

Bellew  struck  a  match,  but  the  wind  from  the 
open  casement  behind  him,  extinguished  it. 

*'  I  have  one  hundred  and  six  pounds!  is 
there  any  advance,  yes  or  no  ?  —  going  at  one 
hundred  and  six!  " 

Adam  who,  up  till  now,  had  enjoyed  the 
struggle  to  the  utmost,  experienced  a  sudden 
qualm  of  fear. 

Bellew  struck  another  match. 

* '  At  one  hundred  and  six  pounds !  —  at  one 
six, — going  at  one  hundred  and  six  pounds — !  ' ' 

A  cold  moisture  started  out  on  Adam's  brow, 
he  clenched  his  hands,  and  muttered  between 
his  teeth.  Supposing  the  money  were  all  gone, 
like  his  own  share,  supposing  they  had  to  lose 
this  famous  old  side-board,  —  and  to  Grimes 
of  all  people !  This,  and  much  more,  was  in 
Adam's  mind  wliile  the  Auctioneer  held  his 
hammer  poised,  and  Bellew  went  on  lighting 
his  pipe. 

' '  Going  at  one  hundred  and  six !  —  going !  — 
going !  —  " 

''  Fifty  up !  "  said  Bellew.  His  pipe  was  well 
alight  at  last,  and  he  was  nodding  to  the  Auc- 
tioneer through  a  fragrant  cloud. 

**  "What!  "  cried  Grimes,  **  'ow  much?  " 


THE  MONEY  MOON      1-11 

**  Gent  in  the  corner  gives  me  one  hundred 
and  fifty  six  pounds,"  said  the  Auctioneer,  with 
a  jovial  eye  upon  the  Corn-chandler's  lowering 
visage,  *' one  five  six,  —  all  done?  —  any  ad- 
vance ?  Going  at  one  five  six,  —  going !  going ! 
—  gone!  "  The  hammer  fell,  and  with  its  tap 
a  sudden  silence  came  upon  the  old  hall.  Then, 
all  at  once,  the  Corn-chandler  turned,  caught  up 
his  hat,  clapped  it  on,  shook  a  fat  fist  at  Bellew, 
and  crossing  to  the  door,  lumbered  away,  mut- 
tering maledictions  as  he  went. 

By  twos  and  threes  the  others  followed  him 
until  there  remained  only  Adam,  Bellew,  the 
Auctioneer,  and  the  red-nosed  Theodore.  And 
yet,  there  was  one  other,  for,  chancing  to  raise 
his  eyes  to  the  minstrel's  gallery,  Bellew  espied 
Miss  Priscilla,  who,  meeting  his  smiling  glance, 
leaned  down  suddenly  over  the  carved  rail,  and 
very  deliberately,  threw  him  a  kiss,  and  then 
hurried  away  with  a  quick,  light  tap-tap  of  her 
stick. 


CHAPTER   XIII 

How  Antliea  came  home 

**Lord!"  said  Adam,  pausing  with  a  chair 
under  either  arm,  * '  Lord,  Mr.  Belloo  sir,  —  I 
wonder  what  Miss  Anthea  will  say?  "  with 
which  remark  he  strode  off  with  the  two  chairs 
to  set  them  in  their  accustomed  places. 

Seldom  indeed  had  the  old  hall  despite  its 
many  years,  seen  such  a  running  to  and  fro, 
heard  such  a  patter  of  flying  feet,  such  merry 
voices,  such  gay,  and  heart-felt  laughter.  For 
here  was  Miss  Priscilla,  looking  smaller  than 
ever,  in  a  great  arm  chair  whence  she  directed 
the  disposal  and  arrangement  of  all  things, 
with  quick  little  motions  of  her  crutch-stick. 
And  here  were  the  two  rosy-cheeked  maids, 
brighter  and  rosier  than  ever,  and  here  was 
comely  Prudence  hither  come  from  her  kitchen 
to  bear  a  hand,  and  here,  as  has  been  said,  was 
Adam,  and  here  also  was  Bellew,  his  pipe  laid 
aside  with  his  coat,  pushing,  and  tugging  in  his 
efforts  to  get  the  great  side-board  back  into  itg 
customary  position;  and  all,  as  has  also  been 
said,  was  laughter,  and  bustle,  and  an  eager 


THE   MONEY   MOON  143 

haste  to  have  all  things  as  they  were,  —  and 
should  be  henceforth,  —  before  Anthea's  re- 
turn. 

"  Lord!  "  exclaimed  Adam  again,  balanced 
now  upon  a  ladder,  and  pausing  to  wipe  his 
brow  with  one  liand  and  with  a  picture  swinging 
in  the  other,  '*  Lord!  what  ever  will  Miss  An- 
thea  say,  Mr.  Belloo  sir!  " 

"Ah!"  nodded  Bellew  thoughtfully,  "I 
wonder!  " 

"  "Uliat  do  you  suppose  she'll  say.  Miss  Pris- 
cilla,  mam?  " 

**  I  think  you'd  better  be  careful  of  that  pic- 
ture, Adam!  " 

'*  "Whicli  means,"  said  Bellew,  smiling  down 
into  Miss  Priscilla's  young,  bright  eyes,  "  that 
you  don't  know." 

''  Well,  Mr.  Bellew,  she'll  be  very  — glad,  of 
course,  —  happier  I  think,  than  you  or  I  can 
guess,  because  I  know  she  loves  every  stick, 
and  stave  of  that  old  furniture,  —  but — " 

"But!"  nodded  Bellew,  "yes,  I  under- 
stand." 

"Mr.  Bellew,  if  Anthea,  —  God  bless  her 
dear  heart!  —  but  if  she  has  a  fault  —  it  is 
pride,  Mr.  Bellew,  Pride!  Pride!  Pride!  — 
with  a  capital  P!  " 

"  Yes,  she  is  very  proud." 


144  THE   MONEY   MOON 

'^  She'll  be  that  'appy- 'earted, "  said  Adam, 
pausing  near-by  with  a  great  armful  of  miscel- 
laneous articles,  '*  an'  that  full  o'  j'y  as  never 
was !  Mr.  Belloo  sir !  "  Having  delivered  him- 
self of  which,  he  departed  with  his  load. 

^'  I  rose  this  morning  —  very  early,  Mr.  Bel- 
lew,  —  Oh !  very  early !  ' '  said  Miss  Priscilla, 
following  Adam's  laden  figure  with  watchful 
eyes,  *'  couldn't  possibly  sleep,  you  see.  So  I 
got  up,  —  ridiculously  early,  —  but,  bless  you, 
she  was  before  me !  ' ' 

^^Ah!" 

'  *  Oh  dear  yes !  —  had  been  up  —  hours ! 
And  what  —  what  do  you  suppose  she  was  do- 
ing? "    Bellew  shook  his  head. 

''  She  was  rubbing  and  polishing  that  old 
side-board  that  you  paid  such  a  dreadful  price 
for,  —  down  on  her  knees  before  it,  —  yes  she 
was !  and  polishing,  and  rubbing,  and  —  crying 
all  the  while.  Oh  dear  heart!  such  great,  big 
tears,  —  and  so  very  quiet !  When  she  heard 
my  little  stick  come  tapping  along  she  tried  to 
hide  them,  —  I  mean  her  tears,  of  course,  Mr. 
Bellew,  and  when  I  drew  her  dear,  beautiful 
head  down  into  my  arms,  she  —  tried  to  smile. 
'I'm  so  very  silly.  Aunt  Priscilla,'  she  said, 
crying  more  than  ever,  '  but  it  is  so  hard  to  let 
the  old  things  be  taken  away,  —  you  see,  —  I  do 


THE   MONEY   MOON  145 

love  them  so !  '  I  tell  you  all  this,  Mr.  Bellew, 
because  I  like  you,  —  ever  since  you  took  the 
trouble  to  pick  up  a  ball  of  worsted  for  a  poor, 
old  lame  woman  —  in  an  orchard,  —  first  im- 
pressions, you  know.  And  secondly,  I  tell  you 
all  this  to  explain  to  you  why  I  —  hum !  —  " 

"  Threw  a  kiss  —  from  a  minstrel's  gallery, 
to  a  most  unworthy  individual.  Aunt  Pris- 
cilla?  " 

**  Threw  you  a  kiss,  Mr.  Bellew,  —  I  had  to, 
• —  the  side-board  you  know,  —  on  her  knees  — 
you  understand?  " 

**  I  understand!  " 

**  You  see,  Mr.  Bolloo  sir,"  said  Adam,  at 
this  juncture,  speaking  from  beneath  an  inlaid 
table  which  he  held  balanced  upon  his  head,  — ■ 
*'  it  ain't  as  if  this  was  jest  ordinary  furnitur' 
sir,  —  ye  see  she  kind-er  feels  as  it  be  all  part 
o'  Dapplomere  Manor,  as  it  used  to  be  called, 
it's  all  been  here  so  long,  that  them  cheers  an' 
tables  has  come  to  be  part  o'  the  'ouse,  sir.  So 
when  she  comos,  an'  finds  as  it  ain't  all  been 
took,  —  or,  as  you  might  say,  —  wanished 
away,  —  why  the  question  as  I  ax's  you  is, — 
w'ot  will  she  say?  Oh  Lord!  "  And  here» 
Adam  gave  vent  to  his  great  laugh  which 
necessitated  an  almost  superhuman  exertion  of 
strength  to  keep  the  table  from  slipping  from 


146  THE   MONEY   MOON 

its  precarious  percli.  Whereupon  Miss  Pris- 
cilla  screamed,  (a  very  small  scream,  like  her- 
self) and  Prudence  scolded,  and  the  two  rosy- 
cheeked  maids  tittered,  and  Adam  went  chuck- 
ling upon  his  way. 

And  when  the  hall  was,  once  more,  its  old, 
familiar,  comfortable  self,  when  the  floor  had 
been  swept  of  its  litter,  and  every  trace  of  the 
sale  removed,  —  then  Miss  Priscilla  sighed, 
and  Bellew  put  on  his  coat. 

' '  When  do  you  expect  —  she  will  come 
home"?  "  he  enquired,  glancing  at  the  grand- 
father clock  in  the  corner. 

*'  Well,  if  she  drove  straight  back  from 
Cranbrook  she  would  be  here  now,  —  but  I 
fancy  she  won 't  be  so  very  anxious  to  get  home 
to-day,  —  and  may  come  the  longest  way  round ; 
yes,  it's  in  my  mind  she  will  keep  away  from 
Dapplemere  as  long  as  ever  she  can." 

*'  And  I  think,"  said  Bellew,  '^  Yes,  I  think 
I'll  take  a  walk.  I'll  go  and  call  upon  the  Ser- 
geant. ' ' 

* '  The  Sergeant !  ' '  said  Miss  Priscilla,  * '  let 
me  see,  —  it  is  now  a  quarter  to  six,  it  should 
take  you  about  fifteen  minutes  to  the  village, 
that  will  make  it  exactly  six  o'clock.  You  will 
find  the  Sergeant  just  sitting  down  in  the  chair 
on  the  left  hand  side  of  the  fire-place,  —  in  the 


THE    MONEY   MOON  147 

corner,  —  at  the  'King's  Head,'  you  know. 
Not  that  I  have  ever  seen  him  there,  —  good 
gracious  no !  but  I  —  happen  to  be  —  ac- 
quainted with  his  habits,  and  he  is  as  regular 
and  precise  as  his  great,  big  silver  watch,  and 
that  is  the  most  precise,  and  regular  thing  in 
nil  the  world.  I  am  glad  you  are  going,"  she 
went  on,  **  because  to-day  is  —  well,  a  day 
apart,  Mr.  Bellew.  You  will  find  the  Sergeant 
at  the  '  King's  Head,'  —  until  half  past  seven.'* 

''  Then  I  will  go  to  the  '  King's  Head,'  " 
said  Bellew.  ''  And  what  message  do  you  send 
him?  " 

**  None,"  said  Miss  Priscilla,  laughing  and 
shaking  her  head,  —  "  at  least,  —  you  can  tell 
him,  if  you  wish,  —  that  —  the  peaches  are 
riper  than  ever  they  were  this  evening." 

"  I  won't  forget,"  said  Bellew,  smiling,  and 
went  out  into  the  sunshine.  But,  crossing  the 
yard,  he  was  met  by  Adam,  who,  chuckling  still, 
paused  to  touch  his  hat. 

**  To  look  at  that  theer  'all,  sir,  you  wouldn't 
never  know  as  there 'd  ever  been  any  sale  at 
all,  —  not  no'ow.  Now  the  only  question  as 
worrits  me,  and  as  I'm  a-axin'  of  myself  con- 
stant is,  —  what  will  Miss  Anthea  'ave  to  say 
about  it?  " 

"  Yes,"  said  Bellew,  "  I  wonder!  "    And  so 


148  THE   MONEY   MOON 

lie  turned,  and  went  away  slowly  across  the 
fields. 

Miss  Priscilla  had  been  right,  —  Anthea  was 
coming  back  the  longest  way  round,  —  also  she 
was  anxious  to  keep  away  from  Dapplemere  as 
long  as  possible.  Therefore,  despite  Small 
Porges'  exhortations,  and  Bess's  champing 
impatience,  she  held  the  mare  in,  permitting 
her  only  the  slowest  of  paces,  which  was  a  most 
unusual  thing  for  Anthea  to  do.  For  the  most 
part,  too,  she  drove  in  silence  seemingly  deaf 
to  Small  Porges'  flow  of  talk,  which  was  also 
very  unlike  in  her.  But  before  her  eyes  were 
visions  of  her  dismantled  home,  in  her  ears 
was  the  roar  of  voices  clamouring  for  her  cher- 
ished possessions,  —  a  sickening  roar,  broken^ 
now  and  then,  by  the  hollow  tap  of  the  auc- 
tioneer's cruel  hammer.  And,  each  time  the 
clamouring  voices  rose,  she  shivered,  and  every 
blow  of  the  cruel  hammer  seemed  to  fall  upon 
her  quivering  heart.  Thus,  she  was  unwont- 
edly  deaf  and  unresponsive  to  Small  Porges. 
who  presently  fell  into  a  profound  gloom,  in 
consequence;  and  thus,  she  held  in  the  eager 
mare  who  therefore,  shied,  and  fidgeted,  and 
tossed  her  head  indignantly. 

But,  slowly  as  they  went,  they  came  within 
sight   of  the   house,   at  last,   with   its   quaint 


THE    MONEY   MOON  149 

gables,  and  many  latticed  windows,  and  the  blue 
smoke  curling  up  from  its  twisted  chimneys,  — 
smiling  and  placid  as  though,  in  all  this  great 
world,  there  were  no  such  thing  to  be  found  as 
—  an  auctioneer's  hammer. 

And  presently  they  swung  into  the  drive,  and 
drew  up  in  the  courtyard.  And  there  was 
Adam,  waiting  to  take  tlie  mare's  head, — 
Adam,  as  good-natured,  and  stolid  as  though 
there  were  no  abominations  called,  for  want  of 
a  worse  name,  —  sales. 

Very  slowly,  for  her,  Antliea  climbed  down 
from  the  high  dog-cart,  aiding  Small  Porges  to 
earth,  and  with  his  hand  clasped  tight  in  hers, 
and  with  lips  set  firm,  she  turned  and  entered 
the  hall.  But,  upon  the  threshold,  she  stopped, 
and  stood  there  utterly  still,  gazing,  and  gazing 
upon  the  trim  orderliness  of  everything.  Then, 
seeing  every  well  remembered  thing  in  its  ap- 
pointed place,  —  all  became  suddenly  blurred, 
and  dim,  and,  snatching  her  hand  from  Small 
Porges'  clasp,  she  uttered  a  great,  choking  sob, 
and  covered  her  face. 

But  Small  Porges  had  seen,  and  stood  aghast, 
and  Miss  Priscilla  had  seen,  and  now  hurried 
forward  with  a  quick  tap,  tap  of  her  stick.  As 
she  came,  Antlioa  raised  her  head,  and  looked 
for  one  who  should  have  been  there,  but  was 


150  THE   MONEY   MOON 

not.  And,  in  that  moment,  instinctively  slie 
knew  how  things  came  to  be  as  they  were, — 
and,  because  of  this  knowledge,  her  cheeks 
flamed  with  a  swift,  burning  colour,  and  with 
a  soft  cry,  she  hid  her  face  in  Miss  Priscilla's 
gentle  bosom.  Then,  while  her  face  was  yet 
hidden  there,  she  whispered: 

^ '  Tell  me  —  tell  me  —  all  about  it. ' ' 
But,  meanwhile,  Bellew,  striding  far  away 
across  the  meadows,  seeming  to  watch  the  glory 
of  the  sun-set,  and  to  hearken  to  a  blackbird 
piping  from  the  dim  seclusion  of  the  copse  a 
melodious  '*  Good-bye  "  to  the  dying  day,  yet 
saw,  and  heard  it  not  at  all,  for  his  mind  was 
still  occupied  with  Adam 's  question :  — 
**  What  would  Miss  Anthea  say?  '* 


CHAPTER   XIV 

Which,  among   other  things,  has   to   do  with 
shrimps,  muffins,  and  tin  whistles 

A  TYPICAL  Kentish  Village  is  Dapplemere  with 
its  rows  of  scattered  cottages  bowered  in  roses 
and  honeysuckle,  —  white  walled  cottages  with 
steep-pitched  roofs,  and  small  latticed  windows 
that  seem  to  stare  at  all  and  sundry  like  so 
many  winking  eyes. 

There  is  an  air  redolent  of  ripening  fruit, 
and  hops,  for  Dapplemere  is  a  place  of  or- 
chards, and  hop-gardens,  and  rick-yards,  while, 
here  and  there,  the  sharp-pointed,  red-tiled  roof 
of  some  oast-house  pierces  the  green. 

Though  Dapplemere  village  is  but  a  very 
small  place  indeed,  now-a-days,  —  3'et  it  pos- 
sesses a  churcli,  grey  and  ancient,  whose  mas- 
sive Norman  tower  looks  down  upon  gable  and 
chimney,  upon  roof  of  thatch  and  roof  of  tile, 
like  some  benignant  giant  keeping  watch  above 
them  all.  Near-by,  of  course,  is  the  inn,  a  great, 
ram])ling,  comfortable  place,  with  time-worn 
settles  beside  the  door,  and  witli  a  mighty  sign 
a-swinging  before  it,  upon  wliich,  plainly  to  be 


152  THE   MONEY  MOON 

seen  (when  the  snn  catches  it  fairly)  is  that 
which  purports  to  be  a  likeness  of  His  Majesty 
King  William  the  Fourth,  of  glorious  memory. 
But  alas !  the  colours  have  long  since  faded,  so 
that  now,  (upon  a  dull  day),  it  is  a  moot  ques- 
tion whether  His  Majesty's  nose  was  of  the 
Greek,  or  Roman  order,  or,  indeed,  whether  he 
was  blessed  with  any  nose  at  all.  Thus,  Time 
and  Circumstances  have  united  to  make  a  ghost 
of  the  likeness  (as  they  have  done  of  the  orig- 
inal, long  since)  which,  fading  yet  more,  and 
more,  will  doubtless  eventually  vanish  alto- 
gether, —  like  King  William  himself,  and  leave 
but  a  vague  memory  behind. 

Now,  before  the  inn  was  a  small  crowd 
gathered  about  a  trap  in  which  sat  two  men, 
one  of  whom  Bellew  recognised  as  the  red- 
necked Corn-chandler  Grimes,  and  the  other, 
the  rat-eyed  Parsons. 

The  Corn-chandler  was  mopping  violently  at 
his  face  and  neck  down  which  ran,  and  to  which 
clung,  a  foamy  substance  suspiciously  like  the 
froth  of  beer,  and,  as  he  mopped,  his  loud 
brassy  voice  shook  and  quavered  with  passion. 

''  I  tell  ye  —  you  shall  get  out  o'  my  cot- 
tage !  "  he  was  sajdng,  ' '  I  say  you  shall  quit 
my  cottage  at  the  end  o '  the  month,  —  and  when 
I  says  a  thing,  I  means  it,  —  I  say  you  shall  get 


THE   MONEY   MOON  153 

off  of  my  property,  —  you  —  and  that  beggarly 
cobbler.  I  say  you  shall  be  thro  wed  out  o'  my 
cottage,  —  lock,  stock,  and  barrel.    I  say —  " 

'*  I  wouldn't,  Mr.  Grimes,  —  leastways,  not  if 
I  was  you,"  another  voice  broke  in,  calm  and 
deliberate.  *'  No,  I  wouldn't  go  for  to  say  an- 
other word,  sir;  because,  if  ye  do  say  another 
word,  I  know  a  man  as  will  drag  you  down  out 
o'  that  cart,  sir,  —  I  know  a  man  as  will  break 
your  whip  over  your  very  own  back,  sir,  —  I 
know  a  man  as  will  then  take  and  heave  you 
into  the  horse-pond,  sir,  —  and  that  man  is  me 
—  Sergeant  Appleby,  late  of  the  Nineteenth 
Hussars,  sir." 

The  Corn-chandler  having  removed  most  of 
the  froth  from  his  head  and  face,  stared  down 
at  the  straiglit,  alert  figure  of  the  big  Sergeant, 
hesitated,  glanced  at  the  Sergeant's  fist  which, 
though  solitary,  was  large,  and  powerful, 
scowled  at  the  Sergeant  from  his  polished  boots 
to  the  crown  of  his  well-brushed  hat  (which 
perched  upon  liis  close-cropped,  grey  hair  at  a 
ridiculous  angle  totally  impossible  to  any  but 
nn  ex-cavalry-man),  muttered  a  furious  oath, 
and  snatching  his  wliip,  cut  viciously  at  his 
liorse,  very  much  as  if  that  animal  had  been  the 
Sergeant  himself,  and,  as  the  trap  lurched  for- 
ward, he  shook  his  fist,  and  nodded  his  head. 


154  THE   MONEY   MOON 

*  *  Out  ye  go,  —  at  the  end  o '  the  month,  — 
mind  that!  "  he  snarled  and  so,  rattled  away 
down  the  road  still  mopping  at  his  head  and 
neck  until  he  had  fairly  mopped  himself  out  of 
sight. 

* '  "Well,  Sergeant, ' '  said  Bellew  extending  his 
hand,  **  how  are  you!  " 

* '  Hearty,  sir,  —  hearty  I  thank  you,  though, 
at  this  pre-cise  moment,  just  a  leetle  put  out, 
sir.  None  the  less  I  know  a  man  as  is  happy  to 
see  you,  Mr.  Bellew,  sir,  —  and  that's  me  — 
Sergeant  Appleby,  at  your  service,  sir.  My 
cottage  lies  down  the  road  yonder,  an  easy 
march  —  if  you  will  step  that  far  ?  —  Speaking 
for  my  comrade  and  myself  —  we  shall  be 
proud  for  you  to  take  tea  with  us  —  muffins  sir 

—  shrimps,  Mr.  Bellew  —  also  a  pikelet  or  two. 

—  Not  a  great  feast  —  but  tolerable  good  ra- 
tions, sir  —  and  plenty  of  'em  —  what  do  you 
say?  " 

* '  I  say  —  done,  and  thank  you  very  much !  ' ' 
So,  without  further  parley,  the  Sergeant 
saluted  divers  of  the  little  crowd,  and,  wheeling 
sharply,  strode  along  beside  Bellew,  rather 
more  stiff  in  the  back,  and  fixed  of  eye  than 
was  his  wont,  and  jingling  his  imaginary  spurs 
rather  more  loudly  than  usual. 

"  You  will  be  wondering  at  the  tantrums  of 


THE   MONEY   MOON  155 

the  man  Grimes,  sir,  —  of  his  ordering  me  and 
my  comrade  Peterday  out  of  his  cottage.    Sir 

—  I'll  tell  you  —  in  two  words.  It's  all  owing 
to  the  sale  —  up  at  the  Farm,  sir.  You  see, 
Grimes  is  a  great  hand  at  buying  things  un- 
commonly cheap,  and  selling  'em  —  micom- 
monly  dear.  To-day  it  seems  —  he  was  disap- 
pointed—  " 

''  AhT  "  said  Bellew. 

*  *  At  exactly  —  twenty-three  minutes  to  six, 
sir,"  said  the  Sergeant,  consulting  his  large 
silver  watch,  ''  I  were  sitting  in  my  usual  cor- 
ner —  beside  the  chimley,  sir,  —  when  in  comes 
Grimes  —  like  a  thunder-cloud.  —  Calls  for  a 
pint  of  ale  —  in  a  tankard.  Tom  draws  pint  — 
which  Tom  is  the  landlord,  sir.  '  Buy  anything 
at  the  sale,  Mr.  Grimes?  '  says  Tom,  —  '  Sale!  ' 
says  Grimes,  '  sale  indeed  I  '  and  falls  a  cursing 

—  folk  up  at  the  Farm  —  shocking  —  outrag- 
eous. Ends  by  threatening  to  foreclose  mort- 
gage —  within  the  month.  Upon  which  —  I 
raise  a  protest  —  upon  which  he  grows  abusive, 

—  upon  which  I  was  forced  to  pour  his  ale  over 
him,  —  after  which  I  ran  him  out  into  the  road 

—  and  tliere  it  is,  you  see." 

"  And  —  he  threatened  to  foreclose  the  mort- 
gage on  Dapplemere  Farm,  did  he.  Sergeant?  " 
""Within   the   month,   sirl  —  upon   which   I 


156  THE   MONEY  MOON 

warned  him  —  inn  parlour  no  place  —  lady's 
private  money  troubles  —  gaping  crowd  — 
dammit!  " 

"  And  so  he  is  turning  you  out  of  his  cot- 
tage? " 

*  *  Within  the  week,  sir,  —  but  then  —  beer 
down  the  neck  —  is  rather  unpleasant!  "  and 
here  the  Sergeant  uttered  a  short  laugh,  and 
was  immediately  grave  again.  **  It  isn't,"  he 
went  on,  ''  it  isn't  as  I  mind  the  inconvenience 
of  moving,  sir  —  though  I  shall  be  mighty  sorry 
to  leave  the  old  place,  still,  it  isn  't  that  so  much 
as  the  small  corner  cup-board,  and  my  book- 
shelf by  the  chimley.  There  never  was  such  a 
cup-board,  —  no  sir,  —  there  never  was  a  cup- 
board so  well  calculated  to  hold  a  pair  o'  jack 
boots,  not  to  mention  spurs,  highlows,  burnish- 
ers, shoulder-chains,  polishing  brushes,  and  — 
a  boot-jack,  as  that  same  small  corner  cup- 
board. As  for  the  book-shelf  beside  the  chim- 
ley, sir  —  exactly  three  foot  three,  —  sunk  in  a 
recess  —  height,  the  third  button  o'  my  coat, — 
capacity,  fourteen  books.  You  couldn't  get 
another  book  on  that  shelf  —  no,  not  if  you 
tried  with  a  sledge-hammer,  or  a  hydraulic  en- 
gine. "Which  is  highly  surprising  when  you 
consider  that  fourteen  books  is  the  true,  and 
exact  number  of  books  as  I  possess.'* 


THE    MONEY   MOON  157 

**  Very  remarkable!  "  said  Bellew. 

*' Then  again,  —  there's  my  comrade, — 
Peter  Day  (The  Sergeant  pronounced  it  as 
though  it  were  all  one  word).  Sir,  my  comrade 
Peterday  is  a  very  remarkable  man,  —  most 
cobblers  are.  When  he's  not  cobbling,  he*s 
reading,  —  when  not  reading,  he's  cobbling,  or 
mending  clocks,  and  watches,  and,  betwixt  this 
and  that,  my  comrade  has  picked  up  a  power 
of  information,  —  though  he  lost  his  leg  a  do- 
ing of  it  —  in  a  gale  of  wind  —  off  the  Cape  of 
Good  Hope,  for  my  comrade  was  a  sailor,  sir. 
Consequently  he  is  a  handy  man,  most  sailors 
are  and  makes  his  own  wooden  legs,  sir,  he  is 
also  a  musician  —  the  tin  whistle,  sir,  —  and 
here  we  are !  ' ' 

Saying  which,  the  Sergeant  halted,  wheeled, 
opened  a  very  small  gate,  and  ushered  Bellew 
into  a  very  small  garden  bright  with  flowers, 
beyond  which  was  a  very  small  cottage  indeed, 
through  the  open  door  of  which  there  issued  a 
most  appetizing  odour,  accompanied  by  a  whis- 
tle, wonderfully  clear,  and  sweet,  that  was  ren- 
dering "  Tom  Bowling  "  with  many  shakes, 
trills,  and  astonishing  runs. 

Peterday  was  busied  at  the  fire  with  a  long 
toasting-fork  in  his  hand,  but,  on  their  en- 
trance, breaking  off  his  whistling  in  the  very, 


15S  THE   MONEY   MOON 

middle  of  a  note,  he  sprang  nimbly  to  his  feet, 
(or  rather,  his  foot),  and  stood  revealed  as  a 
short,  yet  strongly  built  man,  with  a  face  that, 
in  one  way,  resembled  an  island  in  that  it  was 
completely  surrounded  by  hair,  and  whisker. 
But  it  was,  in  all  respects,  a  vastly  pleasant 
island  to  behold,  despite  the  somewhat  craggy 
prominences  of  chin,  and  nose,  and  brow.  In 
other  words,  it  was  a  pleasing  face  notwith- 
standing the  fierce,  thick  eye-brows  which  were 
more  than  offset  by  the  merry  blue  eyes,  and 
the  broad,  humourous  mouth  below. 

"  Peterday,"  said  the  Sergeant,  ''  Mr.  Bel- 
lew!  " 

"  Glad  to  see  you  sir,"  said  the  mariner, 
saluting  the  visitor  with  a  quick  bob  of  the 
head,  and  a  backward  scrape  of  the  wooden  leg. 
**  You  couldn't  make  port  at  a  better  time,  sir, 
—  and  because  why!  —  because  the  kettle's  a 
biling,  sir,  the  muffins  is  piping  hot,  and  the 
shrimps  is  a-laying  hove  to,  waiting  to  be  took 
aboard,  sir."  Saying  which,  Peterday  bobbed 
his  head  again,  shook  liis  wooden  leg  again,  and 
turned  away  to  reach  another  cup  and  saucer. 

It  was  a  large  room  for  so  small  a  cottage, 
and  comfortably  furnished,  with  a  floor  of  red 
tile,  and  with  a  grate  at  one  end  well  raised  up 
from  the  hearth.    Upon  the  hob  a  kettle  sang 


THE   MONEY   MOON  159 

murmiirously,  and  on  a  trivet  stood  a  plate 
whereon  rose  a  tower  of  toasted  muffins.  A 
round  table  occnpied  the  middle  of  the  floor 
and  was  spread  with  a  snowy  cloth  whereon 
cups  and  saucers  were  arranged,  while  in  the 
midst  stood  a  great  bowl  of  shrimps. 

Now  above  the  mantel-piece,  that  is  to  say, 
to  the  left  of  it,  and  fastened  to  the  wall,  was  a 
length  of  rope  cunningly  tied  into  what  is  called 
a  **  running  bowline,"  above  this,  on  a  shelf 
specially  contrived  to  hold  it,  was  the  model  of 
a  full-rigged  ship  that  was  —  to  all  appearances 
—  making  excellent  way  of  it,  with  every  stitch 
of  canvas  set  and  drawing,  alow  and  aloft; 
above  this  again,  was  a  sextant,  and  a  telescope. 
Opposite  all  these,  upon  the  other  side  of  the 
mantel,  were  a  pair  of  stirrups,  three  pairs  of 
spurs,  two  cavalry  sabres,  and  a  carbine,  while 
between  these  objects,  in  the  very  middle  of  the 
chimney,  uniting,  as  it  were,  the  Army,  and  the 
Navy,  was  a  portrait  of  Queen  Victoria. 

Bellew  also  noticed  that  each  side  of  the 
room  partook  of  the  same  characteristics,  one 
being  devoted  to  things  nautical,  the  other  to 
objects  military.  All  tliis  Bellew  noticed  while 
the  soldier  was  brewing  the  tea,  and  the  sailor 
was  bestowing  the  last  finishing  touches  to  the 
muffins. 


160  THE   MONEY   MOON 

"  It  aren't  often  as  we're  honoured  wi'  com- 
pany, sir,"  said  Peterday,  as  they  sat  down, 
*'  is  it,  Dick?  " 

*'  No,"  answered  the  Sergeant,  handing  Bel- 
lew  the  shrimps. 

**  We  ain't  had  company  to  tea,"  said  Peter- 
day,  passing  Bellew  the  muffins,  *'  no,  we  ain't 
had  company  to  tea  since  the  last  time  Miss 
Anthea,  and  Miss  Priscilla  honoured  us,  have 
we,  Dick?  " 

**  Honoured  us,"  said  the  Sergeant,  nodding 
his  head  approvingly,  "  is  the  one,  and  only 
word  for  it,  Peterday." 

"  And  the  last  time  was  this  day  twelve 
months,  sir,  —  because  why?  —  because  this 
day  twelve  months  'appened  to  be  Miss  Pris- 
cilla's  birthday,  —  consequently  to-day  is  her 
birthday,  likewise,  —  wherefore  the  muffins, 
and  wherefore  the  shrimps,  sir,  for  they  was 
this  day  to  have  once  more  graced  our  board, 
Mr.  Bellew." 

"  '  Graced  our  board,'  "  said  the  Sergeant, 
nodding  his  head  again,  **  *  graced  our  board,' 
is  the  only  expression  for  it,  Peterday.  But 
they  disappointed  us,  Mr.  Bellew,  sir,  —  on  ac- 
count of  the  sale." 

"  Messmate,"  said  Peterday,  with  a  note  of 
concern  in  his  voice,  ^'  how's  the  wind?  " 


THE   MONEY   MOON  161 

**  Tolerable,  comrade,  tolerable!  " 

"  Theu  —  why  forget  the  tea?  '* 

**  Tea!  "  said  the  Sergeant  with  a  guilty 
start,  "why  —  so  I  am!  —  Mr.  Bellew  sir, — 
your  pardon !  "  and,  forthwith  he  began  to  pour 
out  the  tea  very  solemnly,  but  with  less  pre- 
cision of  movement  than  usual,  and  with  ab- 
stracted gaze. 

*'  The  Sergeant  tells  me  you  are  a  musician,*' 
said  Bellew,  as  Peterday  handed  him  another 
muffin. 

**  A  musician,  —  me!  think  o '  that  now !  To 
be  sure,  I  do  toot  on  the  tin  whistle  now  and 
then,  sir,  such  things  as  '  The  British  Grena- 
diers,' and  the  *  Girl  I  left  behind  me,'  for  my 
shipmate,  and  *  The  Bay  o'  Biscay,'  and  *  A 
Life  on  the  Ocean  Wave,'  for  myself,  —  but  a 
musician,  Lord!  Ye  see,  sir,"  said  Peterday, 
taking  advantage  of  the  Sergeant's  abstraction, 
and  whispering  confidentially  behind  his  muffin, 
'*  that  messmate  o'  mine  has  such  a  high  opin- 
ion o'  my  gifts  as  is  fair  over-powering,  and 
a  tin  whistle  is  only  a  tin  whistle,  after  all." 

**  And  it  is  about  the  only  instrument  I  could 
ever  get  the  hang  of,"  said  Bellew. 

**  Why  —  do  you  moan  as  you  play,  sir?  " 

*'  Hardly  that,  but  I  make  a  good  bluff  at  it." 

**  Why  then,  —  I've  got  a  couple  o'  very  good 


162  THE   MONEY   MOON 

whistles,  —  if  you're  so  minded  we  might  try 
a  doo-et,  sir,  arter  tea." 

**  With  pleasure!"  nodded  Bellew.  But, 
hereupon,  Peterday  noticing  that  the  Sergeant 
ate  nothing,  leaned  over  and  touched  him  upon 
the  shoulder. 

"  How's  the  wind,  now,  Shipmate?  "  he  en- 
quired. 

*<  Why  so  so,  Peterday,  fairish!  fairish!  '* 
said  the  Sergeant,  stirring  his  tea  round  and 
round,  and  with  his  gaze  fixed  upon  the  oppo- 
site wall. 

**  Then  messmate,  —  why  not  a  muffin,  or 
even  a  occasional  shrimp,  —  where  be  your  ap- 
petite! " 

*  *  Peterday, ' '  said  the  Sergeant,  beginning  to 
stir  his  tea  faster  than  ever,  and  with  his  eyes 
still  fixed,  '*  consequent  upon  disparaging  re- 
marks having  been  passed  by  one  Grimes, — 
our  landlord,  —  concerning  them  as  should  not 
be  mentioned  in  a  inn  parlour  —  or  anywhere 
else  —  by  such  as  said  Grimes,  —  I  was  com- 
pelled to  pour  —  a  tankard  of  beer  —  over  said 
Grimes,  our  landlord,  —  this  arternoon,  Peter- 
day, at  exactly  —  twelve  and  a  half  minutes 
past  six,  by  my  watch,  —  which  done,  —  I  ran 
our  landlord  —  out  into  the  road,  Peterday,  say 
• —  half  a  minute  later,  which  would  make  it  pre- 


THE   MONEY   MOON"  163 

cisely  thirteen  minutes  after  the  hour.  Conse- 
quent upon  which,  comrade  —  we  have  received 
our  marching  orders." 

**  Wliat  messmate,  is  it  heave  our  anchor,  you 
mean?  " 

'*  I  mean,  comrade  —  that  on  Saturday  next, 
being  the  twenty-fifth  instant,  —  we  march  out 

—  bag  and  baggage  —  horse,  foot,  and  artil- 
lery,—  we  evacuate  our  position  —  in  face  of 
superior  force,  —  for  good  and  all,  comrade." 

'*  Is  that  so,  shipmate?  " 
**  It's  rough  on  you,  Peterday  —  it's  hard  on 
you,  I'll  admit,  but  things  were  said,  comrade 

—  relative  to  —  business  troubles  of  one  as  we 
both  respect,  Peterday,  —  things  was  said  as 
called  for  —  beer  down  the  neck,  —  and  run- 
ning out  into  the  road,  comrade.  But  it's  rough 
on  you,  Peterday  seeing  as  you  —  like  the 
Hussars  at  Assuan  —  was  never  engaged,  so  to 
speak. ' ' 

**  Aye,  aye,  Shipmate,  that  does  ketch  me, — 
all  aback,  shipmate.  Wliy  Lord!  I'd  give  a 
pound,  —  two  pound  —  ah,  ten!  —  jnst  to  have 
been  astarn  of  him  wi'  a  rope's  end,  —  though 

—  come  to  think  of  it  I'd  ha'  preferred  a  cap- 
stan-l)ar. " 

"  Peterday,"  said  the  Sergeant  removing  his 
gaze  from  the  wall  with  a  jerk,  **  on  the  twenty- 


164  THE   MONEY   MOON 

fifth  instant  we  shall  be  —  without  a  roof  to 
cover  us,  and  —  all  my  doing.  Peterday  — 
what  have  you  to  say  about  it?  " 

*'  Say,  messmate,  —  why  that  you  and  me, 
honouring,  and  respecting  two  ladies  as  de- 
serves to  be  honoured,  and  respected,  ain't  go- 
ing to  let  such  a  small  thing  as  this  here  cottage 
come  betwixt  us,  and  our  honouring  and  re- 
specting of  them  two  ladies.  If,  therefore,  we 
are  due  to  quit  this  anchorage,  why  then  it's 
all  hands  to  the  windlass  with  a  heave  yo  ho, 
and  merrily!  say  I.  Messmate,  —  my  fist!  " 
Hereupon,  with  a  very  jerky  movement  indeed, 
the  Sergeant  reached  out  his  remaining  arm, 
and  the  soldier  and  the  sailor  shook  hands  very 
solemnly  over  the  muffins  (already  vastly  di- 
minished in  number)  with  a  grip  that  spoke 
much. 

*  *  Peterday,  —  you  have  lifted  a  load  off  my 
heart  —  I  thank  ye  comrade,  —  and  spoke  like 
a  true  soldier.    Peterday  —  the  muffins!  " 

So  now  the  Sergeant,  himself  once  more,  fell 
to  in  turn,  and  they  ate,  and  drank,  and  laughed, 
and  talked,  until  the  shrimps  were  all  gone,  and 
the  muffins  were  things  of  the  past. 

And  now,  declining  all  Bellew's  offers  of  as- 
sistance, the  soldier  and  the  sailor  began  wash- 
ing, and  drying,  and  putting  away  their  crock- 


THE   MONEY   MOON  165 

ery,  each  iu  bis  cliaracteristic  manner,  —  the 
Sergeant  very  careful  and  exact,  while  the 
sailor  juggled  cups  and  saucers  with  the  sure- 
handed  deftness  that  seems  peculiar  to  nautical 
fingers. 

''  Yes,  Peterday,"  said  the  Sergeant,  hang- 
ing each  cup  upon  its  appointed  nail,  and  set- 
ting each  saucer  solicitously  in  the  space  re- 
served for  it  on  the  small  dresser,  ''  since  you 
have  took  our  marching  orders  as  you  have 
took  'em,  I  am  quite  reconciled  to  parting  with 
these  here  snug  quarters,  barring  only  —  a 
book-shelf,  and  a  cup-board." 

"  Cupboard!  "  returned  Peterday  with  a 
snort  of  disdain,  *'  why  there  never  was  such  a 
ill-contrived,  lubberly  cupboard  as  that,  in  all 
the  world;  you  can't  get  at  it  unless  you  lay 
over  to  port,  —  on  account  o'  the  clothes-press, 
and  then  hard  a  starboard,  —  on  account  o'  the 
dresser,  —  and  then  it  being  in  the  darkest 
corner —  " 

*'  True  Peterday,  but  then  I'm  used  to  it,  and 
use  is  everything  as  you  know,  —  I  can  lay  my 
hand  u})on  anything  —  in  a  minute  —  watch 
me!  "  Saying  which,  the  Sergeant  squeezed 
himself  between  the  press  and  the  dresser, 
opened  the  cupboard,  and  took  thence  several 
articles  which  he  named,  each  in  order. 


166  THE   MONEY   MOON 


a 


A  pair  o*  jack-boots,  —  two  brushes, — 
blacking,  —  and  a  burnisher."  Having  set 
these  down,  one  by  one,  upon  the  dresser,  he 
wheeled,  and  addressed  himself  to  Bellew,  as 
follows : 

'  *  Mr.  Bellew,  sir,  —  this  evening  being  the 
anniversary  of  a  certain  —  event,  sir,  I  will  ask 
you  —  to  excuse  me  —  while  I  make  the  neces- 
sary preparations  —  to  honour  this  anniver- 
sary—  as  is  ever  my  custom."  As  he  ended, 
he  dropped  the  two  brushes,  the  blacking,  and 
the  burnisher  inside  the  legs  of  the  boots, 
picked  them  up  with  a  sweep  of  the  arm,  and, 
turning  short  round,  strode  out  into  the  little 
garden. 

'  *  A  fine  fellow  is  Dick,  sir !  "  nodded  Peter- 
day,  beginning  to  fill  a  long  clay  pipe,  ' '  Lord ! 

—  what  a  sailor  he'd  ha'  made,  to  be  sure!  — 
failing  which  he's  as  fine  a  soldier  as  ever  was, 
or  will  be,  with  enough  war-medals  to  fill  my 
Sunday  hat,  sir.  When  he  lost  his  arm  they 
gave  him  the  V.  C,  and  his  discharge,  sir,  —  be- 
cause why  —  because  a  soldier  wi'  one  arm 
ain't  any  more  good  than  a  sailor  wi'  one  leg, 
d'ye  see.    So  they  tried  to  discharge  Dick,  but 

—  Lord  love  you!  —  they  couldn't,  sir,  —  be- 
cause why?  —  because  Dick  were  a  soldier  bred 
and  born,  and  is  as  much  a  soldier  to-day,  as 


THE   MONEY   MOON  167 

ever  he  was,  —  ah !  and  always  will  be  —  until 
he  goes  marching  aloft,  —  like  poor  Tom  Bowl- 
ing, —  nntil  one  as  is  General  of  all  the  armies, 
and  Admiral  of  all  the  fleets  as  ever  sailed,  shall 
call  the  last  muster-roll,  sir.  At  this  present 
moment,  sir,"  continued  the  sailor,  lighting  his 
pipe  with  a  live  coal  from  the  fire,  *'  my  mess- 
mate is  a-sitting  to  the  leeward  o'  the  plum  tree 
outside,  a  polishing  of  his  jack-boots,  —  as 
don't  need  polishing,  and  a  burnishing  of  his 
spurs,  —  as  don't  need  burnishing.  And  be- 
cause why?  —  because  he  goes  on  guard,  to- 
night, according  to  custom." 

"  On  guard!  "  repeated  Bellew,  ''I'm  afraid 
I  don't  understand." 

**  Of  course  you  don't,  sir,"  chuckled  Peter- 
day,  "  well  then,  to-niglit  he  marches  away  — 
in  full  regimentals,  sir,  —  to  mount  guard. 
And  —  where,  do  you  suppose?  —  why,  I'll  tell 
you,  —  under  Miss  Priscilla's  window !  He  gets 
there  as  the  clock  is  striking  eleven,  and  there 
he  stays,  a  marching  to  and  fro,  until  twelve 
o'clock.  "Wliich  does  him  a  world  o'  good,  sir, 
and  noways  displeases  Miss  Priscilla,  —  be- 
cause why?  —  because  she  don't  know  nothing 
whatever  about  it."  Hereupon,  Peterday  rose, 
and  crossing  to  a  battered  sea-man's  chest  in 
the  corner,  came  back  with  three  or  four  tin 


168  THE   MONEY  MOON 

whistles  which  he  handed  to  Bellew,  who  laid 
aside  his  pipe,  and,  having  selected  one,  ran 
tentatively  up  and  down  the  scale  while  Peter- 
day  listened  attentive  of  ear,  and  beaming  of 
face. 

' '  Sir, ' '  said  he,  *  *  what  do  you  say  to  *  Annie 
Laurie  '  as  a  start  —  shall  we  give  'em  '  Annie 
Laurie  '  ?  —  very  good !  —  ready  ?  —  go !  ' ' 

Thus,  George  Bellew,  American  citizen,  and 
millionaire,  piped  away  on  a  tin  whistle  with 
all  the  gusto  in  the  world,  —  introducing  little 
trills,  and  flourishes,  here  and  there,  that  fairly 
won  the  one-legged  sailor's  heart. 

They  had  already  * '  given  'em  ' '  three  or  four 
selections,  each  of  which  had  been  vociferously 
encored  by  Peterday,  or  Bellew,  —  and  had  just 
finished  an  impassioned  rendering  of  the 
^'  Suwanee  Eiver,"  when  the  Sergeant  ap- 
peared with  his  boots  beneath  his  arm. 

''  Shipmate!  "  cried  Peterday,  flourishing 
his  whistle,  *'  did  ye  ever  hear  a  tin  whistle 
better  played,  or  mellerer  in  tone?  " 

*  *  Meller  —  is  the  only  word  for  it,  comrade, 
—  and  your  playing  sirs,  is  —  artistic  — 
though  doleful.  P'raps  you  wouldn't  mind 
giving  us  something  brighter  —  a  rattling 
quick-step?  P'raps  you  might  remember  one 
as  begins: 


THE   MONEY   MOON  169 

*  Some  talk  of  Alexander 
And  some,  of  Hercules; ' 

if  it  wouldn't  be  troubling  you  too  much?  " 

Forthwitli  they  burst  forth  into  ''  The  Brit- 
ish Grenadiers!  "  and  never  did  tin  whistles 
render  the  famous  old  tune  with  more  fire,  and 
dash.  As  the  stirring  notes  rang  out,  the  Ser- 
geant, standing  upon  the  hearth,  seemed  to 
grow  taller,  his  broad  chest  expanded,  his  eyes 
glowed,  a  flush  crept  up  into  his  cheek,  and  the 
whole  man  thrilled  to  the  music  as  he  had  done, 
many  a  time  and  oft,  in  years  gone  by.  As  the 
last  notes  died  away,  he  glanced  down  at  the 
empty  sleeve  pinned  across  his  breast,  shook 
his  head,  and  thanking  them  in  a  very  gruff 
voice  indeed,  turned  on  his  heel,  and  busied 
himself  at  his  little  cupboard.  Peterday  now 
rose,  and  set  a  jug  together  with  three  glasses 
upon  the  table,  also  spoons,  and  a  lemon,  keep- 
ing his  *'  weather-eye  "  meanwhile,  upon  the 
kettle,  —  which  last,  condescending  to  boil 
obligingly,  he  rapped  three  times  with  his 
wooden  leg. 

"  "Right  0,  shipmate!  "  he  cried,  very  much 
as  though  he  had  been  hailing  the  **  main-top,'* 
whereupon  the  Sergeant  emerged  from  between 
the  clothes-press  and  the  dresser  with  a  black 
bottle  in  his  hand,  which  he  passed  over  to 


170  THE   MONEY  MOON 

Peterday  who  set  about  brewing  what  lie  called 
a  '^  jorum  o'  grog,"  the  savour  of  which  filled 
the  place  with  a  right  pleasant  fragrance.  And, 
when  the  glasses  brimmed,  each  with  a  slice  of 
lemon  a-top,  —  the  Sergeant  solemnly  rose. 

*'  Mr.  Bellew,  and  comrade,"  said  he,  lifting 
his  glass,  "  I  give  you  —  Miss  Priscilla!  " 

"  God  bless  her!  "  said  Peterday. 

**  Amen!  "  added  Bellew.  So  the  toast  was 
drunk,  —  the  glasses  were  emptied,  re-filled, 
and  emptied  again,  —  this  time  more  slowly, 
and,  the  clock  striking  nine,  Bellew  rose  to  take 
his  leave.  Seeing  which,  the  Sergeant  fetched 
his  hat  and  stick,  and  volunteered  to  accompany 
him  a  little  way.  So  when  Bellew  had  shaken 
the  sailor's  honest  hand,  they  set  out  together. 

*'  Sergeant,"  said  Bellew,  after  they  had 
walked  some  distance,  '^  I  have  a  message  for 
you. ' ' 

'*  For  me,  sir?  " 

'*  From  Miss  Priscilla." 

"  From  —  indeed,  sir!  " 

*  *  She  bid  me  tell  you  that  —  the  peaches  are 
riper  to-night  than  ever  they  were." 

The  Sergeant  seemed  to  find  in  this  a  sub- 
ject for  profound  thought,  and  he  strode  on 
beside  Bellew  very  silently,  and  with  his  eyes 
straight  before  him. 


THE   MONEY   MOON  171 

'*  '  That  the  peaches  were  riper,  —  to-night, 
—  than  ever  they  were  I  '  "  said  he  at  last. 

"  Yes,  Sergeant." 

**  Riper!  "  said  the  Sergeant,  as  though 
turning  this  over  in  his  mind. 

"  l\iper  than  ever  they  were!  "  nodded  Bel- 
lew. 

*'  The  — peaches,  I  think,  sir?  " 

**  The  peaches,  yes."  Bellew  lieard  the  Ser- 
geant's finger  rasping  to  and  fro  across  his 
shaven  chin. 

"  Mr.  Bellew,  sir  —  she  is  a  —  very  remark- 
able woman,  sir!  " 

"  Yes,  Sergeant!  " 

"  A  —  wonderful  woman!  " 

*'  Yes,  Sergeant!  " 

**  The  kind  of  woman  that  —  improves  with 
age,  sir!  " 

**  Yes,  Sergeant." 

"  Talking  of  —  peaches,  sir,  I've  often 
thought  —  she  is  —  very  like  a  peach  —  her- 
self, sir." 

"  Very,  Sergeant,  but —  " 

♦'  Well,  sir?  " 

**  Peaches  do  —  not  improve  with  age.  Ser- 
geant, —  *  and  the  peaches  are  —  riper  than 
ever  they  were,  —  to-night!  '  "  The  Sergeant 
stepped  short,  and  stared  at  Bellew  wide-eyed. 


172  THE   MONEY   MOON 

"Why  —  sir,'^  said  lie  very  slowly,  *' you 
don't  mean  to  say  you  —  think  as  she  —  meant 
—  that—?  " 

* '  But  I  do !  "  nodded  Bellew.  And  now,  just 
as  suddenly  as  he  had  stopped,  the  Sergeant 
turned,  and  went  on  again. 

"  Lord!  "  he  whispered  —  *'  Lord!   Lord!  " 

The  moon  was  rising,  and  looking  at  the  Ser- 
geant, Bellew  saw  that  there  was  a  wonderful 
light  in  his  face,  yet  a  light  that  was  not  of 
the  moon. 

''  Sergeant,"  said  Bellew,  laying  a  hand 
upon  his  shoulder,  '*  why  don't  you  speak  to 
her?  " 

"  Speak  to  her,  —  what  me!  No,  no,  Mr. 
Bellew!  "  said  the  Sergeant,  hastily.  "  No, 
no,  —  can't  be  done,  sir,  —  not  to  be  mentioned, 
or  thought  of,  sir!  "  The  light  was  all  gone 
out  of  his  face,  now,  and  he  walked  with  his 
chin  on  his  breast. 

"  The  surprising  thing  to  me,  Sergeant,  is 
that  you  have  never  thought  of  putting  your 
fortune  to  the  test,  and  —  speaking  your  mind 
to  her,  before  now." 

^'  Thought  of  it,  sir!  "  repeated  the  Ser- 
geant, bitterly,  ' '  thought  of  it !  —  Lord,  sir ! 
I've  thought  of  it  —  these  five  years  —  and 
more.     I've   thought   of   it  —  day   and   night. 


THE   MONEY   MOON  173 

I've  thought  of  it  so  very  much  that  I  know  — 
I  never  can  —  speak  my  mind  to  her.  Look  at 
me!  "  he  cried  suddenly,  wheeling  and  con- 
fronting BcUew,  but  not  at  all  like  his  bold, 
erect,  soldierly  self,  —  "Yes,  look  at  me, — 
a  poor,  battered,  old  soldier  —  with  his  —  best 
arm  gone,  —  left  behind  him  in  India,  and  with 
nothing  in  the  world  but  his  old  uniform, — 
getting  very  frayed  and  worn,  —  like  himself, 
sir,  —  a  pair  o'  jack  boots,  likewise  very  much 
worn,  though  wonderfully  patched,  here  and 
there,  by  my  good  comrade,  Peterday,  —  a 
handful  of  medals,  and  a  very  modest  pension. 
Look  at  me,  with  the  best  o'  my  days  behind 
me,  and  wi'  only  one  arm  left  —  and  I'm  a  deal 
more  awkward  and  helpless  with  that  one  arm 
than  you'd  think,  sir,  —  look  at  me,  and  then 
toll  me  how  could  such  a  man  dare  to  speak  his 
mind  to  —  such  a  woman.  What  right  has  — 
such  a  man  to  even  think  of  speaking  his  mind 
to  —  such  a  woman,  when  there's  part  o'  that 
man  already  in  the  grave?    ^^^ly,  no  right,  sir, 

—  none  in  the  world.  Poverty,  and  one  arm, 
are  facts  as  make  it  impossible  for  that  man  to 

—  ever  speak  his  mind.  And,  sir  —  that  man  — 
never  will.  Sir,  —  good  night  to  you!  —  and 
a  pleasant  walk!  —  I  turn  back  here." 

Which   the    Sergeant   did,    then    and   there, 


174  THE   MONEY   MOON 

wheeling  sharp  right  about  face;  yet,  as  Bel- 
lew  watched  him  go,  he  noticed  that  the  soIt 
dier's  step  was  heavy,  and  slow,  and  it  seemed 
that,  for  once,  the  Sergeant  had  even  forgotten 
to  put  on  his  imaginary  spurs. 


CHAPTER   XV 
In  which  Adam  explains 

"Adam!  " 

*'  Yes,  Miss  Antliea." 

'*  How  much  money  did  Mr.  Bellew  give  you 
to  —  buy  the  furniture?  " 

Miss  Anthea  was  sitting  in  her  great  elbow 
chair,  leaning  forward  with  her  chin  in  her 
hand,  looking  at  him  in  the  way  which  always 
seemed  to  Adam  as  though  she  could  see  into 
the  verimost  recesses  of  his  mind.  Therefore 
Adam  twisted  liis  hat  in  his  hands,  and  stared 
at  the  ceiling,  and  the  floor,  and  the  table  be- 
fore Miss  Anthea,  and  the  wall  behind  Miss 
Anthea  —  anywhere  but  at  Miss  Anthea. 

* '  You  ax  me  —  how  much  it  were,  Miss  An- 
thea? " 

"  Yes,  Adam." 

*'  Well,  —  it  were  a  goodish  sum.*' 

*'  Was  it  — fifty  pounds?  " 

*'  Fifty  pound!  "  repeated  Adam,  in  a  tone 
of  lofty  disdain,  *'  no.  Miss  Anthea,  it  were  not 
fifty  pound." 

'*  Do  you  mean  it  was  —  more?  " 


176  THE   MONEY   MOON 


( i 


'Ah!"  nodded  Adam,  "  I  mean  as  it  were  a 
sight  more.  If  you  was  to  take  the  fifty  pound 
you  mention,  add  twenty  more,  and  then  an- 
other twenty  to  that,  and  then  come  ten  more 
to  that,  —  why  then  —  you  'd  be  a  bit  nigher  the 
figure —  " 

'^  A  hundred  pounds!  "  exclaimed  Anthea, 
aghast. 

''  Ah!  a  hundred  pound!  "  nodded  Adam, 
rolling  the  words  upon  his  tongue  with  great 
gusto,  — ' '  one  —  hundred  —  pound,  were  the 
sum,  Miss  Anthea." 

"  Oh,  Adam!  " 

' '  Lord  love  you,  Miss  Anthea !  —  that 
weren't  nothing,  —  that  were  only  a  flea-bite, 
as  you  might  say,  —  he  give  more  —  ah!  nigh 
double  as  much  as  that  for  the  side-board." 

''  Nonsense,  Adam!  " 

"  It  be  gospel  true,  Miss  Anthea.  That  there 
sideboard  were  the  plum  o'  the  sale,  so  to 
speak,  an'  old  Grimes  had  set  'is  'eart  on  it, 
d'ye  see.  Well,  it  were  bid  up  to  eighty-six 
pound,  an'  then  Old  Grimes  'e  goes  twenty 
more,  making  it  a  hundred  an'  six.  Then  — 
jest  as  I  thought  it  were  all  over,  an'  jest  as 
that  there  Old  Grimes  were  beginning  to  swell 
hisself  up  wi'  triumph,  an'  get  that  red  in  the 
face  as  'e  were  a  sight  to  behold,  —  Mr.  Belloo, 


THE   MONEY   MOON  177 

who'd  beeu  lightiu'  Is  pipe  all  this  time,  up 
and  sez,  — '  Fifty  up !  '  'e  sez  iu  his  quiet  way, 
makiug  it  a  hundred  an'  fifty-six  pound,  Miss 
Anthea,  —  which  were  too  much  for  Grimes,  — 
Lord !  I  thought  as  that  there  man  were  going 
to  burst.  Miss  Anthea!  "  and  Adam  gave  vent 
to  his  great  laugh  at  the  mere  recollection. 
But  ^Vnthea  was  grave  enough,  and  the 
troubled  look  in  her  eyes  quickly  sobered 
him. 

'*  A  hundred  and  fifty-six  pounds!  "  she  re- 
peated in  an  awed  voice,  ''  but  it  —  it  is  aw- 
ful! " 

''  Steepish  !  "  admitted  Adam,  ''pretty  steep- 
ish  for  a  old  sideboard,  I'll  allow.  Miss  Anthea, 

—  but  you  see  it  were  a  personal  matter  be- 
twLxt  Grimes  an'  ^Ir.  Bolloo.  I  began  to  think 
as  they  never  would  ha'  left  off  biddin',  an'  by 
George!  —  T  don't  believe  as  Mr.  Belloo  ever 
would  have  left  off  biddin'.  Ye  see,  there's 
summ'at  about  Mr.  Belloo,  —  whether  it  be  his 
voice,  or  his  eye,  or  his  chin,  —  T  don't  know, 

—  but  there  be  summ'at  about  him  as  says, 
very  distinct  that  if  so  be  'e  should  'appon  to 
set  'is  mind  on  a  thing, —  why  »e's  a-going  to 
get  it,  an'  'e  ain't  a-going  to  give  in  till  'e  do 
get  it.  Ye  see.  Miss  Anthea,  'e's  so  very  quiet 
in   'is  ways,  an'  speaks  so  soft,  an*  gentle, — 


178  THE   MONEY  MOON 

p'raps  that's  it.  Say,  for  instance,  'e  were  to 
ax  you  for  summ'at,  an'  you  said  '  No  '  —  well, 
'e  wouldn't  make  no  fuss  about  it,  —  not  'im, 
—  he'd  jest  —  take  it,  that's  what  he'd  do.  As 
for  that  there  sideboard  he'd  a  sat  there  a 
bidding  and  a  bidding  all  night  I  do  believe." 

"  But,  Adam,  why  did  he  do  it?  Why  did 
he  buy  —  all  that  furniture?  " 

*  *  Well,  —  to  keep  it  from  being  took  away, 
p'raps!  " 

''  Oh,  Adam!  — what  am  I  to  do?  " 

"  Do,  Miss  Anthea?  " 

' '  The  mortgage  must  be  paid  off  —  dread- 
fully soon  —  you  know  that,  and  —  I  can't  — 
Oh,  I  can't  give  the  money  back —  " 

* '  Why  —  give  it  back !  —  No,  a  course  not. 
Miss  Anthea!  " 

''  But  I  — can't  — keep  it!  " 

"  Can't  keep  it,  Miss  Anthea  mam,  —  an* 
why  not?  " 

''  Because  I'm  very  sure  he  doesn't  want  all 
those  things,  —  the  idea  is  quite  —  absurd ! 
And  yet,  —  even  if  the  hops  do  well,  the  money 
they  bring  will  hardly  be  enough  by  itself,  and 
so  —  I  was  selling  my  furniture  to  make  it  up, 
and  —  now  —  Oh !  what  am  I  to  do  ?  "  and 
she  leaned  her  head  wearily  upon  her  hand. 

Now,  seeing  her  distress,  Adam  all  sturdy 


THE   MONEY   MOON  179 

loyalty  that  lie  was,  must  needs  sigh  in  sym- 
pathy, and  fell,  once  more,  to  twisting  his  hat 
until  he  had  fairly  wrung  it  out  of  all  semblance 
to  its  kind,  twisting  and  screwing  it  between 
his  strong  hands  as  though  he  would  fain  wring 
out  of  it  some  solution  to  the  problem  that  so 
perplexed  his  mistress.  Then,  all  at  once,  the 
frown  vanished  from  his  brow,  his  grip  loos- 
ened upon  his  unfortunate  hat,  and  his  eye 
brightened  with  a  sudden  gleam. 

"  Miss  Anthea,"  said  he,  drawing  a  step 
nearer,  and  lowering  his  voice  mysteriously, 
"  supposing  as  I  was  to  tell  you  that  'e 
did  want  that  furnitur',  —  ah!  an*  wanted  it 
bad?  " 

"  Now  how  can  he,  Adam?  It  isn't  as 
though  he  lived  in  England,"  said  Anthea, 
shaking  her  head,  '*  his  home  is  thousands  of 
miles  away,  —  he  is  an  American,  and  be- 
sides —  " 

<  <  Ah !  —  but  then  —  even  a  American  — 
may  get  married,  Miss  Anthea,  mam!  **  said 
Adam. 

"  ^farricf]!  "  she  repeated,  glancing  up  very 
quickly,  **  Adam  —  what  do  you  mean?  " 

*'  Whv  vou  must  know,"  began  Adam, 
wringing  at  his  hat  again,  *'  ever  since  the  day 
I  found  him  asleep  in  your  hay.  Miss  Anthea, 


180  THE   MONEY   MOON 

mam,  Mr.  Belloo  has  been  very  kind,  and  — 
friendly  like.  Mr.  Belloo  an'  me  'ave  smoked 
a  good  many  sociable  pipes  together,  an' 
when  men  smoke  together,  Miss  Anthea,  they 
likewise  talk  together." 

' '  Yes  I  —  Well  ?  ' '  said  Anthea,  rather 
breathlessly,  and  taking  up  a  pencil  that  hap- 
pened to  be  lying  near  to  hand. 

"  And  Mr.  Belloo,"  continued  Adam,  heav- 
ily, ' '  Mr.  Belloo  has  done  me  —  the  —  the 
honour,"  here  Adam  paused  to  give  an  extra 
twist  to  his  hat,  — ' '  the  —  honour.  Miss  An- 
thea—" 

*'  Yes,  Adam." 

* '  Of  con-fiding  to  me  'is  'opes  —  ' '  said 
Adam  slowly,  finding  it  much  harder  to  frame 
his  well-meaning  falsehood  than  he  had  sup- 
posed, ''his  —  H-0-P-E-S — 'opes,  Miss  An- 
thea, of  settling  down  very  soon,  an'  of  mar- 
ryin'  a  fine  young  lady  as  'e  'as  'ad  'is  eye  on 
a  goodish  time,  —  'aving  knowed  her  from 
childhood's  hour,  Miss  Anthea,  and  as  lives  up 
to  Lonnon  —  ' ' 

"  Yes  — Adam!  " 

''Consequently — 'e  bought  all  your  furni- 
tur'  to  set  up  'ousekeepin ',  don't  ye  see." 

' '  Yes,  —  I  see,  Adam !  ' '  Her  voice  was  low, 
soft  and  gentle  as  ever,  but  the  pencil  was 


THE   MONEY   MOON  181 

tracing   meaningless    scrawls    in   her    shaking 
fingers. 

'*  So  you  don't  'ave  to  be  no-wise  back-ard 
about  keepin'  the  money,  ^liss  ^Vnthea." 

'*  Oh  no,  —  no,  of  course  not,  I  —  I  under- 
stand, it  was  —  just  a  —  business  transaction.'^ 

*'Ah!  —  that's  it,  —  a  business  transac- 
tion!" nodded  Adam,  "So  you'll  put  the 
money  a  one  side  to  help  pay  off  the  mortgage^ 
eh.  Miss  Anthea?  " 

**  Yes." 

"  If  the  'ops  comes  up  to  what  they  promise 
to  come  up  to, —  you'll  be  able  to  get  rid  of 
Old  Grimes  —  for  good  an'  all,  Miss  Anthea.'* 

*♦  Yes,  Adam." 

"An'  you  be  quite  easy  in  your  mind,  now. 
Miss  Anthea  —  about  keepin'  the  money?  " 

' '  Quite !  —  Thank  you,  Adam  —  for  —  tell- 
ing me.    You  can  go  now." 

' '  Wliy  then  —  Good-night !  Miss  Anthea, 
mam,  —  tlie  mortgage  is  as  good  as  paid, — 
there  ain't  no  such  'ops  nowhere  near  so  good 
as  our'n  be.  An'  —  you're  quite  free  o'  care, 
an'  'appy  'earted.  Miss  Anthea?  " 

"  Quite  — Oh  quite,  Adam!  " 

But  whon  Adam's  heavy  tread  had  died 
awav.  —  when  she  was  all  alone,  she  behaved 
rather  strangely  for  one  so  free  of  care,  and 


182  THE   MONEY  MOON 

happy-hearted.  Something  bright  and  glisten- 
ing splashed  upon  the  paper  before  her,  the 
pencil  slipped  from  her  fingers,  and,  with  a 
sudden,  choking  cry,  she  swayed  forward,  and 
hid  her  face  in  her  hands. 


CHAPTER   XVI 

In  which  Adam  proposes  a  game 

**  To  be,  or  not  to  be!  "  Bellew  leaned  against 
the  mighty  bole  of  ''  King  Arthur,"  and  stared 
up  at  the  moon  with  knitted  brows.  *'  That 
is  the  question!  —  whether  I  sliall  brave  the 
slings,  and  arrows  and  things,  and  —  speak  to- 
night, and  have  done  with  it —  one  way  or  an- 
other, or  live  on,  a  while,  secure  in  this  uncer- 
tainty? To  wait?  Whether  I  shall,  at  this  so 
early  stage,  pit  all  my  chances  of  happiness 
against  the  chances  of  —  losing  her,  and  with 
her  —  Small  Porges,  bless  him !  and  all  the 
quaint,  and  lovable  beings  of  this  wonderful 
Arcadia  of  mine.  For,  if  her  answer  be  '  No,* 
—  what  recourse  have  I,  —  what  is  there  left 
me  but  to  go  wandering  forth  again,  following 
tlie  wind,  and  with  the  gates  of  Arcadia  shut 
upon  me  for  over?  *  To  be,  or  not  to  be, — 
that  is  the  question!  '  " 

'*  Be  that  you,  :\lr.  Belloo,  sir?  " 
*'  Even  so,  Adam.    Come  sit  ye  a  while,  good 
knave,  and  gaze  upon  Dian's  loveliness,  and 
smoke,  and  let  us  converse  of  dead  kings.'* 


184  THE   MONEY   MOON 

'<  "WTiy,  kings  ain't  much  in  my  line,  sir, — 
living  or  dead  uns,  —  me  never  'aving  seen  any 

—  except  a  pic'ter,  —  and  that  tore,  though 
very  life-like.  But  why  I  were  a  lookin'  for 
you  was  to  ax  you  to  back  me  up,  —  an'  to 

—  play  the  game,  Mr.  Belloo  sir. ' ' 

*'  .Why  —  as  to  that,  my  good  Adam,  —  my 
gentle  Daphnis, — my  rugged  Euphemio, — you 
may  rely  upon  me  to  the  uttermost.  Are  you  in 
trouble ?  Is  it  counsel  you  need,  or  only  money! 
Fill  your  pipe,  and,  while  you  smoke,  confide 
your  cares  to  me,  —  put  me  wise,  or,  as  your 
French  cousins  would  say, — ^make  me  *  au  fait.'" 

"  Well,"  began  Adam,  when  his  pipe  was 
well  alight,  '^  in  the  first  place,  Mr.  Belloo  sir, 
I  begs  to  remind  you,  as  Miss  Anthea  sold  her 
furnitur'  to  raise  enough  money  as  with  what 
the  'ops  will  bring,  might  go  to  pay  off  the 
mortgage,  —  for  good  an'  all,  sir." 

''Yes." 

*'  Well,  to-night,  sir.  Miss  Anthea  calls  me 
into  the  parlour  to  ax,  —  or  as  you  might  say, 

—  en-quire  as  to  the  why,  an'  likewise  the 
wherefore  of  you  a  buyin'  all  that  furnitur'." 

"  Did  she,  Adam?  " 

*'A}i!  —  'why  did  'e  do  it?'  says  she  — 
*  well,  to  keep  it  from  bein'  took  away,  p'raps,' 
says  I —  sharp  as  any  gimblet,  sir." 


THE   MONEY   MOON  185 

"  Good!  "  nodded  Bellew. 

*  *  All !  —  but  it  wereu  't  no  good,  sir, ' '  re- 
turned Adam,  "  because  she  sez  as  'ow  your 
'ome  being  in  ^\jnerica,  you  couldn't  really  need 
the  furnitur',  —  nor  yet  want  the  furnitur', — 
an'  blest  if  she  wasn't  talkin'  of  handing  you 
the  money  back  again." 

'  *  Hum !  ' '  said  Bellew. 

"  Seeing  which,  sir,  an'  because  she  must 
have  that  money  if  she  'opes  to  keep  the  roof 
of  Dapplemere  over  'er  'ead,  I,  there  an'  then, 
made  up,  —  or  as  you  might  say,  —  con-cocted 
a  story,  a  anecdote,  or  a  yarn,  —  upon  the  spot, 
Mr.  Belloo  sir." 

"Most   excellent   ^rachiavelli!  —  proceed!'* 

"  I  told  her,  sir,  as  you  bought  that  furni- 
tur' on  account  of  you  being  wishful  to  settle 
down,  —  whereat  she  starts,  an'  looks  at  me 
wi'  her  eyes  big,  an'  surprised-like.  I  told  'er, 
likewise,  as  you  had  told  me  on  the  quiet,  — 
or  as  you  might  say,  —  con-fi-dential,  tliat  you 
bought  that  furnitur'  to  set  up  'ouse-keeping 
on  account  o'  you  being  on  the  p'iiit  o'  marry- 
ing a  fine  young  lady  up  to  Lonnon,  —  " 

**  Wliat!  "  Bellew  didn't  move,  nor  did  he 
raise  his  voice,  —  nevertheless  Adam  started 
back,  and  instinctively  threw  up  his  arm. 

*'  You  — told  her  — that?  " 


186  THE   MONEY   MOON 

^' I  did  sir." 

* '  But  you  knew  it  was  a  —  confounded  lie. ' ' 

*' Aye,  —  I  knowed  it.  But  I'd  tell  a  hun- 
dred,—  ah!  thousands  o'  lies,  con-founded,  or 
otherwise,  —  to  save  Miss  Anthea. ' ' 

'*  To  save  her?  " 

' '  From  ruination,  sir !  From  losing  Dapple- 
mere  Farm,  an'  every  thing  she  has  in  the 
world.  Lord  love  ye !  —  the  'ops  can  never 
bring  in  by  theirselves  all  the  three  thousand 
pounds  as  is  owing,  —  it  ain't  to  be  expected, 
—  but  if  that  three  thousand  pound  ain't  paid 
over  to  that  dirty  Grrimes  by  next  Saturday 
week  as  ever  was,  that  dirty  Grimes  turns  Miss 
Anthea  out  o'  Dapplemere,  wi'  Master  Georgy, 
an'  poor  little  Miss  Priscilla,  —  An'  what '11 
become  o '  them  then,  —  I  don 't  know.  Lord ! 
when  I  think  of  it  the  '  Old  Adam  '  do  rise  up 
in  me  to  that  extent  as  I'm  minded  to  take  a 
pitch-fork  and  go  and  skewer  that  there  Grimes 
to  his  own  chimbley  corner.  Ye  see  Mr.  Belloo 
sir,"  he  went  on,  seeing  Bellew  was  silent  still, 
''  Miss  Anthea  be  that  proud,  an'  independent 
that  she'd  never  ha'  took  your  monej^,  sir,  if 
I  hadn't  told  her  that  there  lie,  —  so  that's  why 
I  did  tell  her  that  here  lie." 

"  I  see,"  nodded  Bellew,  *'  I  see!  —  yes, — 
you  did  quite  right.    You  acted  for  the  best,  and 


THE   MONEY   MOON  1S7 

YOU  —  did  quite  right,  Adam,  —  yes,  quite 
right." 

**  Thankee  sir!  " 

'  *  And  so  —  this  is  the  game  I  am  to  play, 
is  it!  " 

"  That's  it,  sir;  if  she  ax's  you,  —  *  are  you 
goin'  to  get  married?  ' — you'll  tell  her  '  yes, — 
to  a  lady  as  you've  knowed  from  your  child- 
hood's hour,  —  living  in  Lon'non,'  —  that's  all, 
sir." 

*' That's  all  is  it,  Adam!"  said  Bellew 
slowly,  turning  to  look  up  at  the  moon  again. 
**  It  doesn't  sound  very  much,  does  it?  "Well, 
I'll  play  your  game,  —  Adam,  —  yes,  you  may 
depend  upon  me." 

**  Thankee,  !Mr.  Belloo  sir,  —  thankee  sir!  — 
though  I  do  'ope  as  you'll  excuse  me  for  taking 
such  liberties,  an'  making  so  free  wi'  your 
'eart,  and  your  affections,  sir?  " 

"Oh  certainly,  Adam!  —  the  cause  excuses 
—  everything. ' ' 

"  Then,  good-night,  sir!  " 

"  Good-night,  Adam!  " 

So  this  good,  well-meaning  Adam  strode 
away,  proud  on  the  whole  of  his  night's  work, 
leaving  Bellew  to  frown  up  at  the  moon  with 
teeth  clenched  tight  upon  his  pipe-stem. 


CHAPTER   XVn 
How  Bellew  began  the  game 

Now  in  this  life  of  ours,  there  be  games  of 
many,  and  divers,  sorts,  and  all  are  calculated 
to  try  the  nerve,  courage,  or  skill  of  the  player, 
as  the  case  may  be.  Bellew  had  played  many 
kinds  of  games  in  his  day,  and,  among  others, 
had  once  been  famous  as  a  Right  Tackle  on  the 
Harvard  Eleven.  Upon  him  he  yet  bore  cer- 
tain scars  received  upon  a  memorable  day  when 
Yale,  flushed  with  success,  saw  their  hitherto 
invincible  line  rent  and  burst  asunder,  saw  a 
figure  torn,  bruised,  and  bleeding,  flash  out  and 
away  down  the  field  to  turn  defeat  into  victory, 
and  then  to  be  borne  off  honourably  to  hospital, 
and  bed. 

If  Bellew  thought  of  this,  by  any  chance,  as 
he  sat  there,  staring  up  at  the  moon,  it  is  very 
sure  that,  had  the  choice  been  given  him,  he 
would  joyfully  have  chosen  the  game  of  torn 
flesh,  and  broken  bones,  or  any  other  game,  no 
matter  how  desperate,  rather  than  this  par- 
ticular game  that  Adam  had  invented,  and 
thrust  upon  him. 


THE   MONEY   MOON  189 

Presently  Bellew  knocked  the  ashes  from  his 
pipe,  and  rising,  walked  on  slowly  toward  the 
honse.  As  he  approached,  he  heard  someone 
playing  the  piano,  and  the  music  accorded  well 
with  his  mood,  or  his  mood  witli  the  music,  for 
it  was  haunting,  and  very  sweet,  and  with  a 
recurring  melody  in  a  minor  key,  that  seemed 
to  voice  all  the  sorrow  of  Humanity,  past,  pres- 
ent, and  to  come. 

Drawn  hy  the  music,  he  crossed  the  Rose 
Garden,  and  reaching  the  terrace,  paused  there; 
for  the  long  French  windows  were  open,  and, 
from  where  he  stood,  he  could  see  Anthea 
seated  at  the  piano.  She  was  dressed  in  a  white 
gown  of  some  soft,  clinging  material,  and 
among  the  hea\"y  braids  of  her  hair  was  a  sin- 
gle great,  red  rose.  And,  as  he  watched,  he 
thought  she  had  never  looked  more  beautiful 
than  now,  with  the  soft  glow  of  the  candles 
upon  her ;  for  her  face  reflected  the  tender  sad- 
ness of  the  music,  it  was  in  the  mournful  droop 
of  her  scarlet  lips,  and  the  sombre  depths  of 
her  eyes.  Close  beside  her  sat  little  Miss  Pris- 
cilla  busy  with  hor  needle  as  usual,  but  now  she 
paused,  and  lifting  her  head  in  her  quick,  bird- 
like way,  looked  up  at  Anthea,  long,  and  fixedly. 

"  Anthea  my  dear,*'  said  she  suddenly,  *'  I'm 
fond  of  music,  and  I  love  to  hear  you  play,  as 


190  THE   MONEY  MOON 

yon  know,  —  but  I  never  heard  you  play  quite 
so  —  dolefully!  dear  me,  no,  —  that's  not  the 
right  word,  —  nor  dismal,  —  but  I  mean  some- 
thing between  the  two." 

**  I  thought  you  were  fond  of  Grieg,  Aunt 
Priscilla. ' ' 

*'  So  I  am,  but  then,  even  in  his  gayest  mo- 
ments, poor  Mr.  Grieg  was  always  breaking 
his  heart  over  something,  or  other.  And  — 
Gracious !  —  there 's  Mr.  Bellew  at  the  window. 
Pray  come  in,  Mr.  Bellew,  and  tell  us  how  you 
liked  Peterday,  and  the  muffins'?  " 

''  Thank  you!  "  said  Bellew,  stepping  in 
through  the  long  French  window,  ''  but  I 
should  like  to  hear  Miss  Anthea  play  again, 
first,  if  she  will?  " 

But  Anthea,  who  had  already  risen  from  the 
piano,  shook  her  head: 

*  *  I  only  play  when  I  feel  like  it,  —  to  please 
myself,  —  and  Aunt  Priscilla,"  said  she,  cross- 
ing to  the  broad,  low  window-seat,  and  leaning 
out  into  the  fragrant  night. 

<<  Why  then,"  said  Bellew,  sinking  into  the 
easy-chair  that  Miss  Priscilla  indicated  with  a 
little  stab  of  her  needle,  **  why  then  the  muffins 
were  delicious.  Aunt  Priscilla,  and  Peterday 
was  just  exactly  what  a  one-legged  mariner 
ought  to  be." 


THE   MONEY   MOON  191 

**  And  the  shrimps,  Mr.  Bellewf  "  enquired 
Miss  Priscilla,  busy  at  her  sewing  again. 

'*  Out-shrimped  all  other  shrimps  so  ever!  " 
he  answered,  glancing  to  where  Anthea  sat  with 
her  chin  propped  in  her  hand,  gazing  up  at 
the  waning  moon,  seemingly  quite  oblivious  of 
him. 

"And  did  —  He  —  pour  out  the  teal**  en- 
quired Miss  Priscilla,  "  from  the  china  pot  with 
the  blue  flowers  and  the  Chinese  Mandarin 
fanning  himself,  —  and  very  awkward,  of 
course,  with  his  one  hand,  —  I  don't  mean  the 
Mandarin,  Mr.  Bellew,  —  and  very  full  of  apol- 
ogies? " 

"He  did." 

"  Just  as  usual;  yes  he  always  does,  —  and 
every  year  he  gives  me  three  lumps  of  sugar,  — 
and  I  only  take  one,  you  know.  It's  a  pity," 
sighed  Miss  Priscilla,  "  that  it  was  his  right 
arm,  —  a  great  pity!  "  And  here  she  sighed 
again,  and,  catching  herself,  glanced  up  quickly 
at  Bellew,  and  smiled  to  see  how  completely  ab- 
sorbed he  was  in  contemplation  of  the  silent 
figure  in  the  window-seat.  "  But,  after  all, 
better  a  right  arm  —  than  a  log,"  she  pursued, 
—  "at  least,  I  think  so !  " 

"  Certainly!  "  murmured  Bellew. 

"  A  man  with  only  one  leg,  you  see,  would 


192  THE   MONEY   MOON 

be  almost  as  helpless  as  an  —  old  woman  with 
a  crippled  foot,  —  ' ' 

'^  Who  grows  younger,  and  brighter,  every 
year!  "  added  Bellew,  turning  to  her  with  his 
pleasant  smile, ' '  yes,  and  I  tliink,  —  prettier !  ' ' 

'*  Oh,  Mr.  Bellew!  "  exclaimed  Miss  Priscilla 
shaldng  her  head  at  him  reprovingly,  yet  look- 
ing pleased,  none  the  less,  —  '*  how  can  you  be 
so  ridiculous,  —  Good  gracious  me !  ' ' 

'*  Why,  it  was  the  Sergeant  who  put  it  into 
my  head, —  " 

''  The  Sergeant?  " 

**  Yes,  —  it  was  after  I  had  given  him  your 
message  about  peaches.  Aunt  Priscilla  and —  " 

*'  Oh  dear  heart!  "  exclaimed  Miss  Priscilla, 
at  this  juncture,  "  Prudence  is  out,  to-night, 
and  I  promised  to  bake  the  bread  for  her,  and 
here  I  sit  chatting,  and  gossipping  while  that 
bread  goes  rising,  and  rising  all  over  the 
kitchen!  "  And  Miss  Priscilla  laid  aside  her 
sewing,  and  catching  up  her  stick,  hurried  to 
the  door. 

**  And  I  was  almost  forgetting  to  wish  you 
*many  happy  returns  of  the  day.  Aunt  Pris- 
cilla! '  "  said  Bellew,  rising. 

At  this  familiar  appellation,  Anthea  turned 
sharply,  in  time  to  see  him  stoop,  and  kiss  Miss 
Priscilla 's  small,  white  Land;    whereupon  An- 


THE   MONEY   MOON  193 

thea  must  needs  curl  her  lip  at  liis  broad  back. 
Then  he  opened  the  door,  and  Miss  Priscilla 
tapped  away,  even  more  quickly  than  usual. 

Anthea  was  half-sitting,  half-kneeling  among 
the  cushions  in  the  corner  of  the  deep  window, 
apparently  still  lost  in  contemplation  of  the 
moon.  So  much  so,  that  she  did  not  stir,  or 
even  lower  her  up-ward  gaze,  when  Bellew 
came,  and  stood  beside  her. 

Therefore,  taking  advantage  of  the  fixity  of 
her  regard,  he,  once  more,  became  absorbed  in 
her  loveliness.  Surely  a  most  unwise  proceed- 
ing—  in  Arcadia,  by  the  light  of  a  midsummer 
moon !  And  he  mentally  contrasted  the  dark, 
proud  beauty  of  her  face,  with  that  of  all  the 
women  he  had  ever  known,  —  to  their  utter, 
and  complete  disparagement. 

"  TVoll?  "  enquired  Anthea,  at  last,  perfectly 
conscious  of  his  look,  and  finding  the  silence 
growing  irksome,  yet  still  witli  her  eyes 
averted,—    ''  Well,  Mr.  Bellow?  " 

"  On  the  contrary,"  he  answered, ''  the  moon 
is  on  the  wane!  " 

"  Tlie  moon !  "  she  repeated,  "  Suppose  it  is, 
—  what  then?  " 

'*  True  ]ia]jpiness  can  only  come  riding 
astride  the  full  moon  you  know,  —  you  remem- 
ber old  Nannie  told  us  so." 


194  THE   MONEY  MOON 


(< 


And  you  —  believed  it?  "  she  enquired 
scornfully. 

<<  Whj,  of  course!  "  he  answered  in  his  quiet 
way. 

Anthea  didn  't  speak  but,  once  again,  the  curl 
of  her  lip  was  eloquent. 

**  And  so,"  he  went  on,  quite  unabashed, 
''  when  I  behold  Happiness  riding  astride  the 
full  moon,  I  shall  just  reach  up,  in  the  most 
natural  mannei'  in  the  world,  and  —  take  it 
down,  that  it  may  abide  with  me,  world  without 
end." 

*'  Do  you  think  you  will  be  tall  enough?  " 

"  We  shall  see,  —  when  the  time  comes." 

*  *  I  think  it 's  all  very  ridiculous !  ' '  said  An- 
thea. 

'  *  Why  then  —  suppose  you  play  for  me,  that 
same,  plaintive  piece  you  were  playing  as  I 
came  in,  —  something  of  Grieg's  I  think  it  was, 
—  will  you.  Miss  Anthea?  " 

She  was  on  the  point  of  refusing,  then,  as  if 
moved  by  some  capricious  whim,  she  crossed  to 
the  piano,  and  dashed  into  the  riotous  music 
of  a  Polish  Dance.  As  the  wild  notes  leapt 
beneath  her  quick,  brown  fingers,  Bellew,  seated 
near-by,  kept  his  eyes  upon  the  great,  red  rose 
in  her  hair,  that  nodded  slyly  at  him  with  her 
every  movement.    And  surely,  in  all  the  world, 


THE   MONEY   MOON  195 

tliere  had  never  bloomed  a  more  tantalizing, 
more  wantonly  provoking  rose  than  this! 
Wherefore  Bellew,  very  wisely,  turned  his  eyes 
from  its  glowing  temptation.  Doubtless  ob- 
serving which,  the  rose,  in  evident  desperation, 
nodded,  and  swayed,  until,  it  had  fairly  nodded 
itself  from  its  sweet  resting-place,  and,  falling 
to  the  floor,  lay  within  Bellew 's  reach.  Where- 
upon, he  promptly  stooped,  and  picked  it  up, 
and,  —  even  as,  with  a  last,  crashing  chord, 
Anthea  ceased  playing,  and  turned,  in  that 
same  moment  he  dropped  it  deftly  into  his  coat 
pocket. 

"Oh!  by  the  way,  Mr.  Bellow,"  she  said, 
speaking  as  if  the  idea  had  but  just  entered 
her  mind,  **  what  do  you  intend  to  do  about  — 
all  your  furniture?  " 

**  Do  about  it?  "  he  repeated,  settling  the 
rose  carefully  in  a  corner  of  his  pocket  where 
it  would  not  be  crushed  by  his  pipe. 

'*  I  mean  —  where  would  you  like  it  —  stored 
until  you  can  send,  and  have  it  —  taken 
awayt  " 

"Well,  —  I  —  or  —  rather  thought  of  keep- 
ing it  —  where  it  was  if  you  didn't  mind." 

"I'm  afraid  tliat  will  be  —  impossible,  Mr. 
Bellew." 

"  Why  then   tlio  barn  will  be  an   excellent 


196  THE   MONEY  MOON 

place  for  it,  I  don't  suppose  the  rats  and  mice 
will  do  it  any  real  harm,  and  as  for  the  damp, 
and  the  dust  —  ' ' 

"  Oh!  you  know  what  I  mean!  "  exclaimed 
Anthea,  beginning  to  tap  the  floor  impatiently 
with  her  foot.  *'  Of  course  we  can't  go  on  us- 
ing the  things  now  that  they  are  your  property, 
it  —  wouldn  't  be  —  right. ' ' 

*'  Very  well,"  he  nodded,  his  fingers  quest- 
ing anxiously  after  the  rose  again,  ''I'll  get 
Adam  to  help  me  to  shift  it  all  into  the  barn, 
to-morrow  morning." 

*'  Will  you  please  be  serious,  Mr.  Bellew!  " 

"As  an  owl !  "  he  nodded. 

<<  Why  then  —  of  course  you  will  be  leaving 
Dapplemere  soon,  and  I  should  like  to  know  ex- 
actly when,  so  that  I  can  —  make  the  necessary 
arrangements. ' ' 

''  But  you  see,  I  am  not  leaving  Dapplemere 
soon  or  even  thinking  of  it. ' ' 

''  Not!  "  she  repeated,  glancing  up  at  him 
in  swift  surprise. 

''  Not  until  —  you  bid  me." 

''You!  " 

' '  But  I  —  I  understood  that  you  —  intend  to 
—  settle  down?  " 

"  Certainly!  "  nodded  Bellew,  transferring 


THE   MONEY   MOON  197 

his  pipe  to  another  pocket  altogether,  lest  it 
should  damage  the  rose's  tender  petals.  '*  To 
settle  down  has  lately  hecome  the  —  er  —  am- 
hition  of  my  life." 

'*  Then  pray,"  said  Anthea,  taking  up  a  sheet 
of  music,  and  beginning  to  study  it  with  atten- 
tive eyes,  '*  be  so  good  as  to  tell  me  —  what  you 
mean." 

'*  That  necessarily  brings  us  back  to  the 
moon  again,"  answered  Bellew. 

''  The  moon?  " 

''  The  moon!  " 

**  But  what  in  the  world  has  the  moon  to  do 
with  your  furniture?  "  she  demanded,  her  foot 
beginning  to  tap  again. 

'  *  Everything !  —  I  bought  that  furniture 
with  —  er  —  with  one  eye  on  the  moon,  as  it 
were,  —  consequently  the  furniture,  the  moon, 
and  T,  are  bound  indissolubly  together." 

*'  You  are  ]ileased  to  talk  in  riddles,  to-night, 
and  really,  Mr.  Bellew,  I  have  no  time  to  waste 
over  them,  so,  if  you  will  excuse  me  —  " 

*'  Thank  you  for  playing  to  me,"  he  said,  as 
he  held  the  door  open  for  her. 

"  I  played  because  I  —  I  felt  like  it,  Mr. 
Bellow." 

**  Nevertheless,  I  thank  you." 

"  AYlien  you  make  up  your  mind  about  —  tlie 
furniture,  —  j)lease  let  me  know." 


198  THE   MONEY   MOON 

**  When  the  moon  is  at  the  full,  yes.** 

**  Can  it  be  possible  that  you  are  still  harping 
on  the  wild  words  of  poor  old  Nannie?  "  she 
exclaimed,  and  once  more,  she  curled  her  lip 
at  him. 

**  Nannie  is  very  old,  I'll  admit,**  he  nodded, 
**  but  surely  you  remember  that  we  proved  her 
right  in  one  particular,  —  I  mean  about  the 
Tiger  Mark,  you  know. ' ' 

Now,  when  he  said  this,  for  no  apparent  rea- 
son, the  eyes  that  had  hitherto  been  looking 
into  his,  proud  and  scornful,  —  wavered,  and 
v^^ere  hidden  under  their  long,  thick  lashes ;  the 
colour  flamed  in  her  cheeks,  and,  without  an- 
other word,  she  was  gone. 


CHAPTER   XVin 

Hoiv  the  Sergeant  ivent  upon  his  guard 

The  Arcadians,  one  and  all,  generally  follow 
that  excellent  maxim  which  runs: 

♦•  Early  to  bed,  and  early  to  rise 
Makes  a  man  healthy,  and  wealthy,  and  wise. " 

Ilealthy  they  are,  beyond  a  doubt,  and,  in  their 
quaint,  simple  fashion,  profoundly  wise.  If 
they  are  not  extraordinarily  wealthy,  yet  are 
they  generally  blessed  with  contented  minds, 
which,  after  all,  is  better  than  money,  and  far 
more  to  be  desired  than  fine  gold. 

Now  whether  their  general  health,  happiness, 
and  wisdom  is  to  be  attributed  altogether  to 
their  early  to  bed  proclivities,  is  perhaps  a  moot 
question.  Howbeit,  to-night,  long  after  these 
weary  Arcadians  had  forgotten  their  various 
cares,  and  troubles  in  the  blessed  oblivion  of 
sleep,  (for  even  Arcadia  has  its  troubles)  Bel- 
lew  sat  beneath  the  shade  of  ''  King  Arthur  ** 
alone  with  his  thoughts. 

Presently,  however,  he  was  surprised  to  hear 
the  house-door  open,  and  close  very  softly,  and 


200  THE   MONEY   MOON 

to  behold  —  not  the  object  of  his  meditations, 
but  Miss  Priscilla  coming  towards  him. 

As  she  caught  sight  of  him  in  the  shadow  of 
the  tree,  she  stopped  and  stood  leaning  upon 
her  stick  as  though  she  were  rather  discon- 
certed. 

*'  Aunt  Priscilla!  "  said  he,  rising. 

''  Oh!  —  it's  you?  "  she  exclaimed,  just  as 
though  she  hadn't  known  it  all  along.  **  Dear 
me!  Mr.  Bellew,  —  how  lonely  you  look,  and 
dreadfully  thoughtful,  —  good  gracious!  "  and 
she  glanced  up  at  him  with  her  quick,  girlish 
smile.  "  I  suppose  you  are  wondering  what  I 
am  doing  out  here  at  this  unhallowed  time  of 
night  —  it  must  be  nearly  eleven  o'clock.  Oh 
dear  me !  —  yes  you  are !  —  Well,  sit  down, 
and  I'll  tell  you.  Let  us  sit  here,  —  in  the 
darkest  corner,  —  there.  Dear  heart !  —  how 
bright  the  moon  is  to  be  sure."  So  saying. 
Miss  Priscilla  ensconced  herself  at  the  very 
end  of  the  rustic  bench,  where  the  deepest 
shadow  lay. 

"  Well,  Mr.  Bellew,"  she  began,  **  as  you 
know,  to-day  is  my  birthday.  As  to  my  age,  I 
am  —  let  us  say,  —  just  turned  twenty-one  and, 
being  young,  and  foolish,  Mr.  Bellew,  I  have 
come  out  here  to  watch  another  very  foolish 
person,  —  a  ridiculous,  old  Sergeant  of  Hus- 


THE   MONEY   MOON  201 

sars,  who  will  come  marching  along,  very  soon, 
to  mount  guard  in  full  regimentals,  Mr.  Bellew, 

—  with  his  busby  on  his  head,  with  his  braided 
tunic  and  dolman,  and  liis  great  big  boots,  and 
with  his  spurs  jingling,  and  his  sabre  bright 
under  the  moon." 

'*  So  then  —  you  know  he  comes?  " 
*'  Why  of  course  I  do.  And  I  love  to  hear 
the  jingle  of  his  spurs,  and  to  watch  the  glitter 
of  his  sabre.  So,  every  year,  I  come  here,  and 
sit  among  the  shadows,  where  he  can't  see  me, 
and  watch  liim  go  march,  march,  marching  up 
and  down,  and  to  and  fro,  until  the  clock  strikes 
twelve,  and  he  goes  marching  home  again.  Oh 
dear   me!  —  it's   all   very   foolish,    of   course, 

—  but  I  love  to  hear  the  jingle  of  his 
spurs." 

*  *  And  —  have  you  sat  here  watching  him, 
every  year  ?  " 

"  Every  year!  " 

**  And  he  has  never  guessed  you  were  watch- 
ing him?  " 

"  Good  gracious  me!  —  of  course  not." 

**  Don't  you  think.  Aunt  Priscilla,  that  you 
are  —  just  a  little  —  cruel?  " 

"  Cruel  —  why  —  what  do  you  moan?  " 

**  I  gave  him  your  message,  Aunt  Priscilla." 

"  Wliat  message?  " 


202  THE   MONEY  MOON 

**  That  *  to-niglit,  the  peaches  were  riper 
than  ever  they  were. '  ' ' 

''  Oh!  "  said  Miss  Priscilla,  and  waited  ex- 
pectantly for  Bellew  to  continue.  But,  as  he 
was  silent  she  glanced  at  him,  and  seeing  him 
staring  at  the  moon,  she  looked  at  it,  also.  And 
after  she  had  gazed  for  perhaps  half  a  minute, 
as  Bellew  was  still  silent,  she  spoke,  though  in 
a  very  small  voice  indeed. 

**  And  — what  did  — he  say?  '* 

**  Who?  "  enquired  Bellew. 

*'  Why  the  —  the  Sergeant,  to  be  sure." 

*  *  Well,  he  gave  me  to  understand  that  a  poor, 
old  soldier  with  only  one  arm  left  him,  must  be 
content  to  stand  aside,  always  and  —  hold  his 
peace,  just  because  he  was  a  poor,  maimed,  old 
soldier.  Don't  you  think  that  you  have  been  — 
just  a  little  cruel  —  all  these  years.  Aunt  Pris- 
cilla? " 

*'  Sometimes  —  one  is  cruel  —  only  to  be  — 
kind !  ' '  she  answered. 

**  Aren't  the  peaches  ripe  enough,  after  all, 
Aunt  Priscilla?  " 

''  Over-ripe!  "  she  said  bitterly,  *'  Oh  — they 
are  over-ripe!  " 

''  Is  that  all.  Aunt  Priscilla?  " 

"  No,"  she  answered,  '*  no,  there's  — this!  '* 
and  she  held  up  her  little  crutch  stick. 


THE   MONEY   MOON  203 

*'  Is  that  all,  Aunt  PriscillaT  " 

"  Oh!  — isn't  — that  enough?  "  Bellew 
rose.  * '  Where  are  you  going  —  What  are  you 
going  to  dot  "  she  demanded. 

*'  Wait!  "  said  he,  smiling  dovm  at  her  per- 
plexity, and  so  he  turned,  and  crossed  to  a  cer- 
tain corner  of  the  orchard.  When  he  came  back 
he  held  out  a  great,  glowing  peach  towards  her. 

"  You  were  quite  right,"  lie  nodded,  **  it  was 
so  ripe  that  it  fell  at  a  touch." 

But,  as  he  spoke,  she  drew  him  down  beside 
her  in  the  sliadow: 

*'  Hush!  "  she  whispered,  '*  Listen!  " 

Now  as  they  sat  there,  very  silent,  —  faint, 
and  far-away  upon  the  still  night  air,  they 
beard  a  sound ;  a  silvery,  rhythmic  sound,  it 
was,  —  like  the  musical  clash  of  fairy  cymbals, 
which  drew  rapidly  nearer,  and  nearer;  and 
Bellew  felt  that  Miss  Priscilla's  hand  was 
trembling  upon  his  arm  as  she  leaned  forward, 
listening  with  a  smile  upon  her  parted  lips,  and 
a  light  in  her  eyes  that  was  ineffably  tender. 

Nearer  came  the  sound,  and  nearer,  until, 
presently,  now  in  moonliglit,  now  in  shadow, 
there  strode  a  tall,  martial  figure  in  all  the 
glory  of  braided  tunic,  and  furred  dolman,  the 
three  chevrons  upon  his  sleeve,  and  many  shi- 
ning medals  upon  his  breast,  —  a  stalwart,  sol- 


204  THE   MONEY   MOON 

dierly  figure,  despite  the  one  empty  sleeve,  who 
moved  with  the  long,  swinging  stride  that  only 
the  cavalry-man  can  possess.  Being  come  be- 
neath a  certain  latticed  window,  the  Sergeant 
halted,  and,  next  moment,  his  glittering  sabre 
flashed  up  to  the  salute ;  then,  with  it  upon  his 
shoulder,  he  wheeled,  and  began  to  march  up 
and  down,  his  spurs  jingling,  his  sabre  gleam- 
ing, his  dolman  swinging,  his  sabre  glittering, 
each  time  he  wheeled ;  while  Miss  Priscilla  lean- 
ing forward,  watched  him  wide-eyed,  and  with 
hands  tight  clasped.  Then,  all  at  once,  —  with 
a  little  fluttering  sigh  she  rose. 

Thus,  the  Sergeant  as  he  marched  to  and  fro, 
was  suddenly  aware  of  one  who  stood  in  the  full 
radiance  of  the  moon,  —  and  with  one  hand  out- 
stretched towards  him.  And  now,  as  he  paused, 
disbelieving  his  very  eyes,  he  saw  that  in  her 
extended  hand  she  held  a  great  ripe  peach. 

' '  Sergeant !  ' '  she  said,  speaking  almost  in  a 
whisper,  ''  Oh  Sergeant  —  won't  you  —  take 
it?  " 

The  heavy  sabre  thudded  down  into  the  grass, 
and  he  took  a  sudden  step  towards  her.  But, 
even  now,  he  hesitated,  until,  coming  nearer 
yet,  he  could  look  down  into  her  eyos. 

Then  he  spoke,  and  his  voice  was  very 
hoarse,  and  unoven : 


THE   MONEY   MOON  205 

"Miss  Priscilla?"  he  said,  '' PriscillaT  — 
Oh,  Priscilla!  "  And,  with  the  word,  he  had 
fallen  on  his  knees  at  her  feet,  and  his  strong, 
solitary  arm  was  folded  close  about  her. 


CHAPTEE   XIX 

In  which  Porges  Big,  and  Forges  Small  discuss 
the  subject  of  Matrimony 

**  What  is  it,  my  Porges?  " 

**  Well,  —  I'm  a  bit  worried,  you  know.'* 

*' Worried?  " 

"  Yes, —  'fraid  I  shall  be  an  old  man  before 
my  time.  Uncle  Porges.  Adam  says  it's  worry 
that  ages  a  man,  —  an'  it  killed  a  cat  too!  " 

*'  And  why  do  you  worry?  " 

**  Oh,  it's  my  Auntie  Anthea,  a  course!  — 
she  was  crying  again  last  night  —  ' ' 

* '  Crying !  ' '  Bellew  had  been  lying  flat  upon 
his  back  in  the  fragrant  shadow  of  the  hay-rick, 
but  now  he  sat  up  —  very  suddenly,  so  sud- 
denly that  Small  Porges  started.  *^  Crying?  " 
he  repeated,  *'  last  night!    Are  you  sure?  " 

"  Oh  yes!  You  see,  she  forgot  to  come  an* 
'  tuck  me  up  '  last  night,  so  I  creeped  down- 
stairs, —  very  quietly,  you  know,  to  see  why. 
An '  I  found  her  bending  over  the  table,  all  sob- 
bing, an'  crying.  At  first  she  tried  to  pretend 
that  she  wasn  't,  but  I  saw  the  tears  quite  plain^ 
—  her  cheeks  were  all  wet,  you  know ;  an'  when 


THE   MONEY   MOON  207 

I  put  my  arms  round  her  —  to  comfort  her  a 
bit,  an '  asked  her  what  was  the  matter,  she  only 
kissed  me  a  lot,  an'  said  '  nothing!  notliing, — 
only  a  headache!  '  " 

**  And  why  was  she  crying,  do  you  suppose, 
my  PorgesT  " 

**  Oh!  —  money,  a  course!  "  he  sighed. 

"  Wliat  makes  you  think  it  was  money!  " 

"  'Cause  she'd  been  talking  to  Adam,  —  I 
heard  him  say  *  Good-night,'  as  I  creeped  down 
the  stairs,  —  " 

"  Ah?  "  said  Bellew,  staring  straight  before 
him.  His  beloved  pipe  had  slipped  from  his 
fingers,  and,  for  a  wonder,  lay  all  neglected. 
"  It  was  after  she  had  talked  with  Adam,  was 
it,  my  Porgcs?  " 

**  Yes,  —  that's  why  I  know  it  was  'bout 
money;  Adam's  always  talking  'bout  mor- 
gyges,  an'  bills,  an'  money.  Oh  Uncle  Forges, 
how  I  do  —  hate  money!  " 

"It  is  sometimes  a  confounded  nuisance!  " 
nodded  Bellew. 

"  But  I  do  wish  we  had  some,  —  so  we  could 
pay  all  her  bills,  an'  morgyges  for  her.  She'd 
be  BO  happy,  you  know,  an'  go  about  singing 
like  she  used  to,  —  an'  I  shouldn't  worry  my- 
self into  an  old  man  before  my  time,  —  all 
wrinkled,  an'  gray,  you  know;  an'  all  would  be 


208  THE   MONEY   MOON 

revelry,  an'  joy.  if  only  she  had  enough  gold, 
an'  bank-notes!  " 

'  *  And  she  was  —  crying,  you  say !  ' '  de- 
manded Bellew  again,  his  gaze  still  far  away. 

''Yes." 

"  You  are  quite  sure  you  saw  the  —  tears,  my 
Forges?  " 

''  Oh  yes!  an'  there  was  one  on  her  nose, 
too,  —  a  big  one,  that  shone  awful '  bright,  — 
twinkled,  you  know." 

''  And  she  said  it  was  only  a  headache,  did 
she?  " 

' '  Yes,  but  that  meant  money,  —  money  al- 
ways makes  her  head  ache,  lately.  Oh  Uncle 
Forges!  —  I  s'pose  people  do  find  fortunes, 
sometimes,  don't  they?  " 

<<  Why  yes,  to  be  sure  they  do." 

"  Then  I  wish  I  knew  where  they  looked  for 
them,"  said  he  with  a  very  big  sigh  indeed, 
*'  I've  hunted  an'  hunted  in  all  the  attics,  an' 
the  cupboards,  an'  under  hedges,  an'  in  ditches, 
an'  prayed,  an'  prayed,  you  know,  —  every 
night." 

''  Then,  of  course,  you'll  be  answered,  my 
Forges. ' ' 

'*  Do  you  really  s'pose  I  shall  be  answered? 
You  see  it's  such  an  awful'  long  way  for  one 
small  prayer  to  have  to  go,  —  from  here  to 


THE   MONEY   MOON  209 

heaven.  An'  there's  clouds  that  got  in  the  way, 
an'  I'm  'fraid  my  prayers  aren't  quite  big,  or 
heavy  enough,  an'  get  lost,  an'  blown  away  in 
the  wind." 

*'  No,  my  Forges,"  said  Bellew,  drawing  his 
arm  about  the  small  disconsolate  figure,  *'  you 
may  depend  upon  it  that  your  prayers  fly 
straight  up  into  heaven,  and  that  neither  the 
clouds,  nor  the  wind  can  come  between,  or  blow 
tliem  away.  So  just  keep  on  praying,  old  chap, 
and  when  the  time  is  ripe,  they'll  be  answered, 
never  fear." 

"Answered?  —  Do  j'ou  mean,  —  oh  Uncle 
Forges!  —  do  you  mean  —  the  Money  Moon?  " 
The  small  hand  upon  Bellow's  arm,  quivered, 
and  his  voice  trembled  with  eagerness. 

' '  TMiy  yes,  to  be  sure,  —  the  Money  Moon, 
my  Forges,  —  it's  bound  to  come,  one  of  these 
fine  nights." 

**  Ah  !  —  but  when,  —  oh !  when  will  the 
Money  Moon  ever  come?  " 

**  "Well,  T  can't  be  quite  sure,  but  I  rather 
fancy,  from  the  look  of  things,  my  Forges,  that 
it  will  bo  pretty  soon." 

"  Oh,  I  do  hope  so!  —  for  her  sake,  an'  my 
sake.  You  see,  she  may  go  getting  herself 
married  to  Mr.  Cassilis,  if  something  doesn't 
happen  soon,  an'  I  shouldn't  like  that,  you 
know." 


210  THE   MONEY  MOON 

'^  Neither  should  I,  my  Porges.  But  what 
makes  you  think  so  ?  " 

<<  Why  he's  always  bothering  her,  an'  ask- 
ing her  to,  you  see.  She  always  says  *  No  '  a 
course,  but  —  one  of  these  fine  days,  I'm  'fraid 
she  '11  say  '  Yes  '  —  accidentally,  you  know. ' ' 

'*  Heaven  forbid,  nephew!  " 

*'  Does  that  mean  you  hope  not!  " 

*'  Indeed  yes." 

' '  Then  I  say  heaven  forbid,  too,  —  'cause  I 
don't  think  she'd  ever  be  happy  in  Mr.  Cas- 
silis's  great,  big  house.  An'  I  shouldn't 
either. ' ' 

Why,  of  course  not!  " 
You  never  go  about  asking  people  to  marry 
you,  do  you  Uncle  Porges?  " 

*'  Well,  it  could  hardly  be  called  a  confirmed 
habit  of  mine." 

'^  That's  one  of  the  things  I  like  about 
you  so,  —  all  the  time  you've  been  here  you 
haven't  asked  my  Auntie  Anthea  once,  have 
you?  " 

''  No,  my  Porges,  —  not  yet." 

*  *  Oh !  —  but  you  don 't  mean  that  you  —  ever 
will!  " 

''  Would  you  be  very  grieved,  and  angry,  if 
I  did,  —  some  day  soon,  my  Porges?  " 

'■  *  Well,  I  —  I  didn  't  think  you  were  that  kind 


THE   MONEY   MOON  211 

of  a  man!  "  answered  Small  Porges,  sigliiiig 
and  shaking  his  head  regretfully. 

'*  I'm  afraid  I  am,  nephew." 

"  Do  you  really  mean  that  you  want  to  — 
marry  my  Auntie  Anthea?  " 

''  I  do." 

*'  As  much  as  Mr.  Cassilis  does?  '* 

**  A  great  deal  more,  I  think." 

Small  Porges  sighed  again,  and  shook  his 
head  very  gravely  indeed: 

'*  Uncle  Porges,"  said  he,  '*  I'm  —  s 'prised 
at  you!  " 

"  I  rather  feared  you  would  be,  nephew.'* 

**  It's  all  so  awful'  silly,  you  know!  —  why 
do  you  want  to  marry  her?  " 

*'  Because,  like  a  Prince  in  a  fairy  tale,  I'm 
—  er  —  rather  anxious  to  —  live  happy  ever 
after." 

*'  Oh!  "  said  Small  Porges,  turning  this  over 
in  his  mind,  *'  I  never  thought  of  that." 

**  Marriage  is  a  very  important  institution, 
you  see,  my  Porges,  —  especially  in  this  case, 
because  I  can't  possibly  live  happy  ever  after, 
unless  I  marry  —  first;  —  now  can  I?  " 

'*  No,  I  s'pose  not!  "  Small  Porges  admitted, 
albeit  reluctantly,  after  he  had  pondered  tho 
matter  a  while  with  wrinkled  brow,  **  but  why 
pick  out  —  my  Auntie  Anthea?  " 


212  THE   MONEY   MOON 

*  *  Just  because  she  happens  to  be  your  Auntie 
Anthea,  of  course." 

Small  Porges  sighed  again : 

<<  Why  then,  if  she's  got  to  be  married  some 
day,  so  she  can  live  happy  ever  after,  —  well,  — 
I  s'pose  you'd  better  take  her.  Uncle  Porges." 

'*  Thank  you,  old  chap,  —  I  mean  to." 

"I'd  rather  you  took  her  than  Mr.  Cassilis, 
an '  —  why  there  he  is !  " 

"Who?  " 

"  Mr.  Cassilis.  An'  he's  stopped,  an'  he's 
twisting  his  mestache. ' ' 

"  Mr.  Cassilis,  who  had  been  crossing  the 
paddock,  had  indeed  stopped,  and  was  twist- 
ing his  black  moustache,  as  if  he  were 
hesitating  between  two  courses.  Finally,  he 
pushed  open  the  gate,  and,  approaching  Bellew, 
saluted  him  with  that  supercilious  air  which 
Miss  Priscilla  always  declared  she  found  so 
"  trying." 

"  Ah,  Mr.  Bellew!  what  might  it  be  this 
morning,  —  the  pitchfork  —  the  scythe,  or  the 
plough?  "  he  enquired. 

' '  Neither,  sir,  —  this  morning  it  is  —  matri- 
mony. ' ' 

* '  Eh !  —  I  beg  your  pardon,  —  matrimony?  ' * 

**  With  a  large  M,  sir,"  nodded  Bellew, 
**  marriage,  sir,  —  wedlock;   my  nephew  and  I 


010 


THE   MONEY   MOON  21 

are  discussing  it  in  its  aspects  philosophical, 

sociological,  and —  " 

'*  That  is  surely  ratlier  a  —  peculiar  subject 

to  discuss  with  a  child,  Mr.  Bellew —  " 
**  Meaning  my  nephew,  sir!  " 
**  I  mean  —  young  George,  there." 
"  Precisely,  —  my  nephew,  Small  Porges." 
"  I    refer,"    said    Mr.    Cassilis,    with    slow, 

and    crushing   emphasis,    "  to    Miss    Devine's 

nephew  —  ' ' 

"  And  mine,  Mr.  Cassilis,  —  mine  by  —  er  — 

mutual  adoption,  and  inclination." 

**  And  I  repeat  that  your  choice  of  subjects 

is  —  peculiar,  to  say  the  least  of  it." 

**  But  then,  mine  is  rather  a  peculiar  nephew, 

sir.    But,  surely  it  was  not  to  discuss  nephews, 

—  mine  or  anyone  else's,  that  you  are  hither 

come,  and  our  ears  do  wait  upon  you,  —  pray 

be  seated,  sir." 

"  Thank  you,  I  prefer  to  stand." 

"  Strange!  "  murmured  Bellew,  shaking  his 

head,  "  I  never  stand  if  I  can  sit,  or  sit  if  I 

can  lie  down." 

"  I  should  like  you  to  define,  exactly,  your 

position  —  here  at  Dapplemere,  Mr.  Bellew." 
Bellew 's  sleepy  glance  missed  nothing  of  the 

other's  challenging  attitude,  and  his  ear,  noth- 
ing of  ^fr.  Cassilis 's  authoritative  tone,  there- 


214  THE   MONEY   MOON 

fore  Ms  smile  was  most  engaging  as  he  an- 
swered : 

* '  My  position  here,  sir,  is  truly  the  most  — 
er  —  enviable  in  the  world.  Prudence  is  an 
admirable  cook,  —  particularly  as  regard  York- 
shire Pudding;  gentle,  little  Miss  Priscilla  is 
the  most  —  er  Aunt-like,  and  perfect  of  house- 
keepers; and  Miss  Anthea  is  our  sovereign 
lady,  before  whose  radiant  beauty.  Small 
Porges  and  I  like  true  knights,  and  gallant 
gentles,  do  constant  homage,  and  in  whose  be- 
half Small  Porges  and  I  do  stand  prepared  to 
wage  stern  battle,  by  day,  or  by  night." 

"  Indeed!  "  said  Mr.  Cassilis,  and  his  smile 
was  even  more  supercilious  than  usual. 

"  Yes,  sir,"  nodded  Bellew,  ''  I  do  confess 
me  a  most  fortunate,  and  happy,  wight  who, 
having  wandered  hither  and  yon  upon  this 
planet  of  ours,  which  is  so  vast,  and  so  very 
small,  —  has,  by  the  most  happy  chance,  found 
his  way  hither  into  Arcady. ' ' 

' '  And  —  may  I  enquire  how  long  you  intend 
to  lead  this  Arcadian  existence?  " 

"  I  fear  I  cannot  answer  that  question  until 
the  full  o '  the  moon,  sir,  —  at  present,  I  grieve 
to  say,  —  I  do  not  know. ' ' 

Mr.  Cassilis  struck  his  riding-boot  a  sudden 
smart  rap  with  his  whip;    his  eyes  snapped, 


THE   MONEY   MOON  215 

and  liis  nostrils  dilated,  as  he  glanced  down 
into  Bellew's  imperturbable  face. 

**  At  least  you  know,  and  will  perhaps  ex- 
plain, what  prompted  you  to  buy  all  that  furni- 
ture? You  were  the  only  buyer  at  the  sale  I 
understand." 

"Who  —  bought  anything,  yes,"  nodded 
Bellew. 

**  And  pray  —  what  was  your  object,  —  you 
—  a  stranger?  " 

"  Well,"  replied  Bellew  slowh%  as  he  began 
to  fill  his  pipe,  *'  I  bought  it  because  it  was 
there  to  buy,  you  know;  I  bought  it  because 
furniture  is  apt  to  be  rather  useful,  now  and 
then,  —  I  acquired  the  chairs  to  —  er  —  sit  in, 
the  tables  to  —  er  —  put  things  on,  and  —  " 

"  Don't  quibble  with  me,  Mr.  Bellew  1  " 

**  I  beg  your  pardon,  Mr.  Cassilis!  " 

"  When  I  ask  a  question,  sir,  I  am  in  tho 
habit  of  receiving  a  direct  reply, —  " 

"  And  when  I  am  asked  a  question,  Mr.  Cas- 
silis, I  am  in  the  habit  of  answering  it  precisely 
as  I  please,  —  or  not  at  all." 

"  Mr.  Bellew,  let  me  impress  upon  you,  once 
and  for  all,  tliat  Miss  Devine  has  friends, — 
old  and  tried  friends,  to  whom  she  can  always 
turn  for  aid  in  any  financial  difTirulty  she  may 
have    to    encounter,  —  friends    who    can    mare 


216  THE   MONEY   MOON 

than  tide  over  all  her  dijB&culties  without  the  — 
interference  of  strangers;  and,  as  one  of  her 
oldest  friends,  I  demand  to  know  by  what  right 
you  force  your  wholly  unnecessary  assistance 
upon  her?  " 

''  My  very  good  sir,"  returned  Bellew,  sha- 
king his  head  in  gentle  reproof,  "  really,  you 
seem  to  forget  that  you  are  not  addressing  one 
of  your  grooms,  or  footmen,  —  consequently 
you  force  me  to  remind  you  of  the  fact ;  further- 
more,—  " 

**  That  is  no  answer!  "  said  Mr.  Cassilis,  his 
gloved  hands  tight-clenched  upon  his  hunting- 
crop,  —  his  whole  attitude  one  of  menace. 

''  Furthermore,"  pursued  Bellew  placidly, 
settling  the  tobacco  in  his  pipe  with  his  thumb, 
* '  you  can  continue  to  —  er  demand,  until  all 's 
blue,  and  I  shall  continue  to  lie  here,  and 
smoke,  and  gaze  up  at  the  smiling  serenity  of 
heaven. ' ' 

The  black  brows  of  Mr.  Cassilis  met  in  a  sud- 
den frown,  he  tossed  his  whip  aside,  and  took 
a  sudden  quick  stride  towards  the  recumbent 
Bellew  with  so  evident  an  intention,  that  Small 
Porges  shrank  instinctively  further  within  the 
encircling  arm. 

But,  at  that  psychic  moment,  very  fortunately 
for  all  concerned,  there  came  the  sound  of  a 


THE    MONEY    MOON  217 

quick,  liglit  step,  and  Aiithea  stood  between 
them. 

"Mr.  Cassilis!  — Mr.  Bollew!  "  she  ex- 
claimed, her  cheeks  flushed,  and  her  bosom 
heaving  with  the  haste  she  had  made,  "  pray 
whatever  does  this  meant  " 

Bellew  rose  to  his  feet,  and  seeing  Cassilis 
was  silent,  sliook  his  head  and  smiled : 

"  Upon  my  word,  I  hardly  know.  Miss  An- 
tliea.  Our  friend  ]\Ir.  Cassilis  seems  to  have 
got  himself  all  worked  up  over  the  —  er  —  sale, 
I  fancy  —  ' ' 

*'  The  furniture!  "  exclaimed  Anthea,  and 
stamped  her  foot  with  vexation.  "  Tliat 
wretched  furniture!  Of  course  you  explained 
your  object  in  buj^ng  it,  Mr.  Bellew?  " 

**  "Well,  no,  —  we  hadn't  got  as  far  as  that." 

Now  when  he  said  this,  Anthea 's  eyes  flashed 
sudden  scorn  at  him,  and  she  curled  her  lip  at 
him,  and  turned  her  back  upon  him: 

"  Mr.  Bellew  bought  my  furniture  because  he 
intends  to  set  up  house-keeping  —  he  is  to  be 
married  —  soon,  I  believe." 

'*  When  the  moon  is  at  the  full!  "  nodded 
Bellow. 

"Married!"  exclaimed  Mr.  Cassilis,  his 
frown  vanishing  as  if  by  magic.  ''  Oh,  in- 
deed —  " 


218  THE    MONEY   MOON 

' '  I  am  on  my  way  to  the  hop-gardens,  if  you 
care  to  walk  with  me,  Mr.  Cassilis  1  ' '  and,  with 
the  words,  Anthea  turned,  and,  as  he  watched 
them  walk  away,  together,  —  Bellew  noticed 
npon  the  face  of  Mr.  Cassilis  an  expression 
very  like  triumph,  and,  in  his  general  air,  a  sug- 
gestion of  proprietorship  that  jarred  upon  him 
most  unpleasantly. 

''  Why  do  you  frown  so.  Uncle  Porges?  " 

"  I  —  er  —  was  thinking,  nephew. ' ' 

*'  Well,  I'm  thinking,  too!  "  nodded  Small 
Porges,  his  brows  knitted  portentously.  And 
thus  they  sat.  Big,  and  Little  Porges,  frowning 
in  unison  at  space  for  quite  a  while. 

"  Are  you  quite  sure  you  never  told  my 
Auntie  Anthea  that  you  were  going  to  marry 
her?  "  enquired  Small  Porges,  at  last. 

*'  Quite  sure,  comrade,  —  why?  " 

"  Then  how  did  she  know  you  were  going  to 
marry  her,  an'  settle  down?  " 

'*  Marry  —  her,  and  settle  down?  " 

*  *  Yes,  —  at  the  full  o '  the  moon,  you  know. '  * 

< '  Why  really  —  I  don 't  know,  my  Porges,  — 
unless  she  guessed  it." 

'  ^  I  specks  she  did,  —  she 's  awful '  clever  at 
guessing  things!    But,  do  you  know —  " 

''  Well?  " 

"I'm  thinking  I  don't  just  like  the  way  she 


THE   MONEY   MOON  219 

smiled  at  Mr.  Cassilis,  I  never  saw  her  look  at 
him  like  that  before,  —  as  if  she  were  awful' 
glad  to  see  him,  von  know;  so  I  don't  think  I'd 
wait  till  the  full  o'  the  moon,  if  I  were  you.  I 
think  you'd  better  marry  her  —  this  after- 
noon." 

"  That,"  said  Bellow,  clapping  him  on  the 
shoulder,  "is  a  very  admirable  idea, —  I'll 
mention  it  to  her  on  the  first  available  oppor- 
tunity, my  Porges." 

But  the  opportunity  did  not  come  that  day, 
nor  the  next,  nor  the  next  after  that,  for  it 
seemed  that  with  the  approach  of  the  **  Hop- 
1  ticking  "  Anthea  had  no  thought,  or  time,  for 
anvthinc:  else. 

^Vlierefore  Bellew  smoked  many  pipes,  and, 
as  the  days  wore  on,  possessed  his  soul  in  pa- 
tience, which  is  a  most  excellent  precept  to  fol- 
low —  in  all  things  but  love. 


CHAPTER   XX 

Which  relates  a  most  extraordinary  conver- 
sation 

In  the  days  which  now  ensued,  while  Anthea 
was  busied  out  of  doors  and  Miss  Priscilla  was 
busied  indoors,  and  Small  Porges  was  diligently 
occupied  with  his  lessons,  —  at  such  times,  Bel- 
lew  would  take  his  pipe  and  go  to  sit  and  smoke 
in  company  with  the  Cavalier  in  the  great  pic- 
ture above  the  carved  chimney-piece. 

A  right  jovial  companion,  at  all  times,  was 
this  Cavalier,  an  optimist  he,  from  the  curling 
feather  in  his  broad-brimmed  beaver  hat,  to  the 
spurs  at  his  heels.  Handsome,  gay,  and  debo- 
nair was  he,  with  lips  up-curving  to  a  smile 
beneath  his  moustachio,  and  a  quizzical  light  in 
his  grey  eyes,  very  like  that  in  Bellew's  own. 
Moreover  he  wore  the  knowing,  waggish  air  of 
one  well  versed  in  all  the  ways  of  the  world, 
and  mankind  in  general,  and,  (what  is  infinitely 
more),  —  of  the  Sex  Feminine,  in  particular. 
Experienced  was  he,  beyond  all  doubt,  in  their 
pretty  tricks,  and  foibles,  since  he  had  ever  been 
a  diligent  student  of  Feminine  Capriciousness 
when  the  "  Merry  Monarch  "  ruled  the  land. 


THE   MONEY   MOON  221 

Ilenco,  it  became  customary  for  Bellew  to  sit 
with  him,  and  smoke,  and  take  counsel  of  this 
**  preux  chevalier  "  upon  the  unfortunate  turn 
of  affairs.  Whereof  ensued  many  remarkable 
conversations  of  which  the  following,  was  one: 

Bellew  :  No  sir,  —  emphatically  I  do  not 
agree  with  you.  To  be  sure,  you  may  have  had 
more  experience  than  I,  in  such  affairs,  —  but 
then,  it  was  such  a  very  long  time  ago. 

The  Cavalier:  (Interrupting,  or  seeming 
to)!!! 

Bellew:  Again,  I  beg  to  differ  from  you, 
women  are  not  the  same  to-day  as  they  ever 
were.  Judging  by  what  I  have  road  of  the 
la<Hos  of  your  day,  and  King  Charles's  court  at 
Whitehall,  —  I  should  say  —  not.  At  least,  if 
they  are,  they  act  differently,  and  consequently 
must  be  —  er  —  wooed  differently.  The  meth- 
ods employed  in  your  day  would  be  wholly 
inadequate  and  quite  out  of  place,  in  this. 

Tite  Cavalfer  :  (Shaking  his  head  and  smirk- 
ing, —  or  seeming  to) ! ! ! 

Bellew:  Well,  I'm  willing  to  bet  you  any- 
tliing  you  like  that  if  you  were  to  step  down 
out  of  your  frame,  cliange  your  velvets  and 
laces  for  trousers  and  coat,  leave  off  your  great 
peruke,  and  wear  a  derby  hat  instead  of  that 
picturesque,  floppy  affair,  and  try  your  fortune 


222  THE   MONEY   MOON 

with  some  Twentieth  Century  damsel,  your 
high-sounding  gallantries,  and  flattering 
phrases,  would  fall  singularly  flat,  and  you 
would  be  promptly  —  turned  down,  sir. 

The  Cavaliek:  (Tossing  his  love-locks, — 
or  seeming  to) !!! 

Bellew:  The  ''  strong  hand,"  you  say? 
Hum!  History  tells  us  that  "William  the  Con- 
queror wooed  his  lady  with  a  club,  or  a  battle- 
axe,  or  something  of  the  sort,  and  she  conse- 
quently liked  him  the  better  for  it;  which  was 
all  very  natural,  and  proper  of  course,  in  her 
case,  seeing  that  hers  was  the  day  of  battle- 
axes,  and  things.  But  then,  as  I  said  before, 
sir,  —  the  times  are  sadly  changed,  —  women 
may  still  admire  strength  of  body,  and  even  — 
occasionally  —  of  mind,  but  the  theory  of 
**  Dog,  woman,  and  wal-nut  tree  "  is  quite  obso- 
lete. 

The  Cavalier:  (Frowning  and  shaking  his 
head,  —  or  seeming  to) ! ! ! 

Bellew  :  Ha !  —  you  don 't  believe  me  ?  Well, 
that  is  because  you  are  obsolete,  too ;  —  yes  sir, 
as  obsolete  as  your  hat,  or  your  boots,  or  your 
long  rapier.  Now,  for  instance,  suppose  I  were 
to  ask  your  advice  in  my  own  easel  You  know 
precisely  how  the  matter  stands  at  present,  be- 
tween Miss  Anthea  and  myself.    You  also  know 


THE   MONEY   MOON  223 

Miss  Antlioa  personally,  since  yon  have  seen 
her  much  and  often,  and  liave  watched  her  grow 
from  childhood  into  —  er  —  glorious  woman- 
hood, —  I  repeat  sir  glorious  womanhood. 
Thus,  you  ought  to  know,  and  understand  her 
far  better  than  I,  —  for  I  do  confess  she  is  a 
constant  source  of  bewilderment  to  me.  Now, 
since  you  do  know  her  so  well,  —  what  course 
should  you  adopt,  wore  you  in  my  placet 

TnE  Cavalier:  (Smirking  more  knowingly 
than  ever,  —  or  seeming  to)!!! 

Bellew  :  Preposterous !  Quite  absurd !  — ■ 
and  just  what  I  might  have  expected.  Carry 
her  off,  indeed!  No  no,  we  are  not  living  in 
your  bad,  old,  glorious  days  when  a  maid's 
**  No  "  was  generally  taken  to  mean  *'  Yes  "  — 
or  when  a  lover  might  swing  his  reluctant  mis- 
tress up  to  his  saddle-bow,  and  ride  off  with  her, 
leaving  the  world  far  behind.  To-day  it  is  all 
changed,  —  sadly  changed.  Your  age  was  a 
wild  age,  a  \'iolont  age,  but  in  some  respects, 
perhaps,  a  rather  glorious  age.  Your  advice 
is  singularly  characteristic,  and,  of  course, 
quite  impossible,  alas !  —  Carry  her  off,  indeed ! 

Hereupon,  Bollow  sighed,  and  turning  away, 
lighted  his  pipe,  wliich  had  gone  out,  and  buried 
himself  in  the  newspaper. 


CHAPTER   XXI 

'Of  shoes,  and  ships,  and  sealing  wax,  and  the 
third  finger  of  the  left  hand 

So  Bellew  took  up  the  paper.  The  house  was 
very  quiet,  for  Small  Porges  was  deep  in  the 
vexatious  rules  of  the  Multiplication  Table,  and 
something  he  called  *'  Jogafrey,"  Anthea  was 
out,  as  usual,  and  Miss  Priscilla  was  busied  with 
her  numerous  household  duties.  Thus  the 
brooding  silence  was  unbroken  save  for  the  oc- 
casional murmur  of  a  voice,  the  jingle  of  the 
housekeeping  keys,  and  the  quick,  light  tap,  tap, 
of  Miss  Priscilla 's  stick. 

Therefore,  Bellew  read  the  paper,  and  let  it 
be  understood  that  he  regarded  the  daily  news- 
sheet  as  the  last  resource  of  the  utterly  bored. 

Now  presently,  as  he  glanced  over  the  paper 
with  a  negative  interest  his  eye  was  attracted 
by  a  long  paragraph  beginning: 

At  St.   George's,  Hanover   Square,  by  the 

Right  Reverend  the  Bishop  of ,  Silvia  Ce- 

cile  Marchmond,  to  His  Grace  the  Duke  of 
Ryde,  K.  G.,  K.  C.  B. 


THE   MONEY   MOON  225 

Below  followed  a  full,  true,  and  particular 
account  of  the  ceremony  which,  it  seemed,  had 
been  graced  by  Royalty.  George  Bellew  read 
it  half  way  through,  and  —  yawned,  —  posi- 
tively, and  actually,  yawned,  and  thereafter, 
laughed. 

"And  so,  I  have  been  in  Arcadia  —  only 
three  weeks!  I  have  known  Anthea  only 
twenty-one  days !  A  ridiculously  short  time,  as 
time  goes,  —  in  any  other  place  but  Arcadia,  — 
and  yet  sufficient  to  lay  for  ever,  the  —  or  — 
Haunting  Spectre  of  the  Might  Have  Been. 
Lord !  what  a  preposterous  ass  I  was !  Baxter 
was  quite  right,  —  utterly,  and  completely 
right !  Now,  let  us  suppose  that  this  para- 
graph had  read:  *  To-day,  at  St.  George's, 
Hanover  Square,  Anthea  Devine  to  —  '  No  no, 
—  confound  it !  "  and  Bellew  crumpled  up  the 
paper,  and  tossed  it  into  a  distant  corner.  *'  I 
wonder  what  Baxter  would  think  of  me  now,  — 
good  old  faithful  John.  Tlie  Haunting  Spectre 
of  the  Might  Have  Been,  —  Wliat  a  prepos- 
terous ass !  —  what  a  monumental  idiot  I 
was!  " 

"  Posterous  ass,  isn't  a  very  pretty  word, 
Uncle  Porgos,  —  or  continental  idiot!"  said 
a  voice  behind  him,  and  turning,  he  be- 
held   Small    Porges    somewhat    stained,    and 


226  THE   MONEY   MOON 

bespattered  with  ink,  who  shook  a  reproving 
head  at  him. 

"  True,  nephew,"  he  answered,  ''  but  they 
are  sometimes  very  apt,  and  in  this  instance, 
particularly  so." 

Small  Porges  drew  near,  and,  seating  himself 
upon  the  arm  of  Bellew's  chair,  looked  at  his 
adopted  uncle,  long,  and  steadfastly. 

'*  Uncle  Porges,"  said  he,  at  last,  "  you 
never  tell  stories,  do  you?  —  I  mean  —  lies,  you 
know. ' ' 

'  *  Indeed,  I  hope  not,  Porges,  —  why  do  you 
ask?  " 

"  Well, —  'cause  my  Auntie  Anthea's  'fraid 
you  do." 

''  Is  she  — hum!  — Why?  " 

* '  When  she  came  to  '  tuck  me  up, '  last  night, 
she  sat  down  on  my  bed,  an'  talked  to  me  a 
long  time.  An'  she  sighed  a  lot,  an'  said  she 
was  'fraid  I  didn't  care  for  her  any  more, — 
which  was  awful'  silly,  you  know." 

**  Yes,  of  course!  "  nodded  Bellew. 

'^  An'  then  she  asked  me  why  I  was  so  fond 
of  you,  an'  I  said  'cause  you  were  my  Uncle 
Porges  that  I  found  under  a  hedge.  An'  then 
she  got  more  angrier  than  ever,  an'  said  she 
wished  I'd  left  you  under  the  hedge —  " 

*'  Did  she,  my  Porges?  " 


THE   MONEY   MOON  227 

"  Yes;  she  said  she  wished  she'd  never  seen 
you,  an'  she'd  be  awful'  glad  when  you'd  gone 
away.  So  I  tokl  her  you  weren't  ever  going 
away,  an'  that  we  were  waiting  for  the  Money 
Moon  to  come,  an'  bring  us  the  fortune.  An' 
then  she  shook  her  head,  an'  said  *  Oh!  my 
dear,  —  you  mustn't  believe  anything  he  says 
to  you  about  the  moon,  or  anything  else,  'cause! 
he  tells  lies,'  —  an'  she  said  *  lies  '  twice!  " 

*  *  Ah !  —  and  —  did  she  stamp  her  foot, 
Porges?  " 

"Yes,  I  think  she  did;  an'  tlion  she  said 
there  wasn't  such  a  thing  as  a  Money  Moon, 
an'  she  told  me  you  were  going  away  very  soon, 
to  get  married,  you  know." 

**  And  what  did  you  say?  " 

"  Oh!  I  told  hor  tliat  T  was  going  too.  An' 
then  I  thought  she  was  going  to  cry,  an'  she 
said  *  Oh  Georgv!  I  didn't  think  vou'd  leave 
me  —  even  for  liim.'  So  then  I  had  to  s 'plain 
how  we  had  arranged  that  she  was  going  to 
marrj'  you  so  that  we  could  all  live  happy  ever 
after,  —  I  mean,  tliat  it  was  all  settled,  you 
know,  an'  that  you  were  going  to  spoak  to  her 
on  the  first  —  opportunity.  An'  then  she 
looked  at  me  a  long  time  an'  asked  me  —  was 
I  sure  you  had  said  so.  An'  then  she  got  awfnl' 
angry  indeed,  an'  said  '  How  dare  he !    Oh,  how 


228  THE   MONEY   MOON 

dare  he!  '  So  a  course,  I  told  her  you'd  dare 
anything  —  even  a  dragon,  —  'cause  you  are  so 
big,  an'  brave,  you  know.  So  then  she  went 
an'  stood  at  the  window,  an'  she  was  so  angry 
she  cried,  —  an'  I  nearly  cried  too.  But  at  last 
she  kissed  me  *  Good  night  '  an'  said  you  were 
a  man  that  never  meant  anything  you  said,  an ' 
that  I  must  never  believe  you  any  more,  an' 
that  you  were  going  away  to  marry  a  lady  in 
London,  an '  that  she  was  very  glad,  'cause  then 
we  should  all  be  happy  again  she  s 'posed.  So 
she  kissed  me  again,  an'  tucked  me  up,  an' 
went  away.  But  it  was  a  long,  long  time  before 
I  could  go  to  sleep,  'cause  I  kept  on  thinking, 
an'  thinking  s 'posing  there  really  wasn't  any 
Money  Moon,  after  all!  s 'posing  you  were  go- 
ing to  marry  another  lady  in  London !  —  You 
see,  it  would  all  be  so  —  frightfully  awful, 
wouldn't  it?  " 

a  Terribly  dreadfully  awful,  my  Porges." 

' '  But  you  never  do  tell  lies,  —  do  vou,  Uncle 
Porges?  " 

'^No!  " 

''An'  —  there  is  a  Money  Moon,  isn't 
there?  " 

'<  Why  of  course  there  is." 

*'  An'  you  are  going  to  marry  my  Auntie  An- 
thea  in  the  full  o'  the  moon,  aren't  you?  " 


THE   MONEY   MOON  229 

**  Yes,  my  Porges." 

*' "Why  then  —  everything's  all  right  again, 
—  so  let's  go  an'  sit  under  the  hay-stack,  an' 
talk  'bout  ships." 

**  But  why  of  ships!  "  enquired  Bellew,  ri- 
sing. 

'*  'Cause  I  made  up  my  mind,  this  morning, 
that  I'd  be  a  sailor  when  I  grow  up,  —  a  mari- 
ner, you  know,  like  Peterday,  only  I'd  prefer  to 
have  both  my  legs." 

**  You'd  find  it  more  convenient,  perhaps." 

"  You  know  all  'bout  oceans,  an'  waves,  and 
billows,  don't  you  Uncle  Porges?  " 

"  Well,  I  know  a  little." 

"  An'  are  you  ever  sea-sick,  —  like  a  *  land- 
lubber? '  " 

''  I  used  to  be,  but  I  got  over  it." 

**  Was  it  a  very  big  ship  that  you  came  over 
in?  " 

"  No,  —  not  so  very  big,  but  she's  about  as 
fast  as  anything  in  her  class,  and  a  corking  sea- 
boat." 

"  Wliat's  her  name?  " 

"  Tlor  name?  "  repeated  Bellew,  ''  well,  she 
was  called  tlie  —  er  '  Silvia.'  " 

'*  Tliat's  an  awful'  pretty  name  for  a 
fillip." 

**  Hum !  —  so  so,  —  but  I  have  learned  a  pret- 


230  THE   MONEY   MOON 

tier,  and  next  time  she  puts  out  to  sea  we'll 
change  her  name,  eh,  my  Porges?  " 

<  <  "^e  ?  ' '  cried  Small  Porges,  looking  up  with 
eager  eyes,  "  do  you  mean  you'd  take  me  to 
sea  with  you,  —  an'  my  Auntie  Anthea,  of 
course?  " 

"  You  don't  suppose  I'd  leave  either  of  you 
behind,  if  I  could  help  it,  do  you?  We'd  all 
sail  away  together  —  wherever  you  wished." 

''  Do  you  mean,"  said  Small  Porges,  in  a  sud- 
denly awed  voice,  *  *  that  it  is  —  your  ship,  — 
your  very  own  ?  " 

''Oh  yes" 

' '  But,  —  do  you  know.  Uncle  Porges,  you 
don't  look  as  though  you  had  a  ship  —  for  your 
very  own,  somehow." 

'*  Don't  I?  " 

''  You  see,  a  ship  is  such  a  very  big  thing 
for  one  man  to  have  for  his  very  own  self.  An ' 
has  it  got  masts,  an'  funnels,  an'  anchors?  " 

''  Lots  of  'em." 

'*  Then,  please,  when  will  you  take  me  an' 
Auntie  Anthea  sailing  all  over  the  oceans?  " 

''  Just  so  soon  as  she  is  ready  to  come." 

' '  Then  I  think  I  'd  like  to  go  to  Nova  Zembla 
first,  —  I  found  it  in  my  jogafrey  to-day,  an' 
it  sounds  nice  an'  far  off,  doesn't  it?  " 

''  It  does.  Shipmate!  "  nodded  Bellew. 


THE    MONEY   MOON  231 

"  Oh!  that's  fine!  "  exclaimed  Small  Porges 
rapturously,  ''  you  shall  be  the  captain,  an'  I'll 
be  the  shipmate,  an'  we'll  say  Aye  Aye,  to  each 
other  —  like  the  real  sailors  do  in  books,  — 
shall  weT  " 

**  Aye,  aye  Shipmate!  "  nodded  Bellow  again. 

**  Then  please.  Uncle  Por —    I  mean  Captain, 

—  what  shall  we  name  our  ship,  —  I  mean  the 
new  name?  " 

""Well,  my  Porges,  —  I  mean,  of  course, 
shipmate,  —  I  rather  thought  of  calling  her  — 
Hallo!  —  why  here's  the  Sergeant." 

Sure  enough,  there  was  Sergeant  Appleby 
sitting  under  the  shade  of  '*  King  Arthur  "  — 
but  who  rose,  and  stood  at  atiention  as  they 
came  up. 

**  Wliy  Sergeant,  how  are  you?  "  said  Bellew, 
gripping  the  veteran's  hand.  **  You  are  half 
an  hour  before  your  usual  time,  to-day,  —  noth- 
ing wrong,  I  hope?  " 

"  Nothing  wrong,  Mr.  Bellew,  sir  —  I  thank 
you.  No,  nothiug  wrong,  but  this  —  is  a  — 
memorable  occasion,  sir.    May  I  trouble  you  to 

—  step  behind  the  tree  with  me  —  for  half  a 
moment,  sir?  " 

Suiting  the  action  to  the  word,  the  Sergeant 
led  Bellow  to  the  other  side  of  the  tree,  and 
there,  screened  from  view  of  the  house,  he,  witli 


232  THE   MONEY   MOON! 

a  sudden,  jerky  movement,  produced  a  very 
small  leather  case  from  his  pocket,  which  he 
handed  to  Bellew. 

' '  Not  good  enough  —  for  such  a  woman  —  I 
know,  but  the  best  I  could  afford,  sir!  "  said 
the  Sergeant  appearing  profoundly  interested 
in  the  leaves  overhead,  while  Bellew  opened  the 
very  small  box. 

**  Why  —  it's  very  handsome,  Sergeant!" 
said  Bellew,  making  the  jewels  sparkle  in  the 
sun,  —  ''anyone  might  be  proud  of  such  a 
ring. ' ' 

' '  "Why,  it  did  look  pretty  tidy  —  in  the  shop, 
sir,  —  to  me,  and  Peterday.  My  comrade  has  a 
sharp  eye,  and  a  sound  judgment  in  most 
things,  sir  —  and  we  took  —  a  deal  of  trouble 
in  selecting  it.  But  now  —  when  it  comes  to  — 
giving  it  to  Her,  —  why  it  looks  —  uncommon 
small,  and  mean,  sir." 

"  A  ruby,  and  two  diamonds,  and  very  fine 
stones,  too,  Sergeant!  " 

"  So  I  made  so  bold  as  to  —  come  here  sir," 
pursued  the  Sergeant  still  interested  in  the  foli- 
age above,  "  half  an  hour  afore  my  usual  time 
—  to  ask  you,  sir  —  if  you  would  so  far  oblige 
me  —  as  to  —  hand  it  to  her  —  when  I'm  gone, 


sir." 


"  Lord,  no!  "  said  Bellew,  smiling  and  sha- 


THE   MONEY   MOON  233 

king  his  head,  '*  not  on  your  life,  Sergeant! 
Why  man  it  woukl  lose  half  its  value  in  her 
eyes  if  any  other  than  you  gave  it  to  her.  No 
Sergeant,  you  must  hand  it  to  her  yourself,  and, 
wliat's  more,  you  must  slip  it  upon  her  finger." 

"  Good  Lord!  sir!  "  exclaimed  the  Sergeant, 
*'  I  could  never  do  that!  " 

'  *  Oh  yes  you  could !  '  * 

"  Not  unless  you  —  stood  by  me  —  a  force  in 
reserve,  as  it  were,  sir." 

*'  I'll  do  that  willingly.  Sergeant." 

"  Then  —  p'raps  sir  —  you  might  happen  to 
know  —  which  finger  f  " 

*'  The  tliird  finger  of  the  left  hand,  I  believe, 
Sergeant." 

"  Here's  Aunt  Priscilla  now,"  said  Small 
Porges,  at  this  juncture. 

"Lord!"  exclaimed  the  Sergeant,  ''and 
sixteen  minutes  afore  her  usual  time!  " 

Yes,  —  there  was  Miss  Priscilla,  her  basket 
of  sewing  upon  her  arm,  as  gentle,  as  unruffled, 
as  placid  as  usual.  And  yet  it  is  probable  that 
she  divined  something  from  their  very  atti- 
tudes, for  there  was  a  light  in  her  eyes,  and  her 
cheeks  seemed  more  delicately  pink  than  was 
their  wont.  Thus,  as  she  came  toward  them, 
under  tlie  ancient  apple-trees,  despite  her  stick, 
and  her  white  hair,  slie  looked  even  younger, 
and  more  girlish  tlian  ever. 


234  THE   MONEY   MOON 

At  least,  tlie  Sergeant  seemed  to  think  so,  for, 
as  he  met  her  look,  his  face  grew  suddenly- 
radiant,  while  a  slow  flush  crept  up  under  the 
tan  of  his  cheek,  and  the  solitary  hand  he  held 
out  to  her,  trembled  a  little,  for  all  its  size,  and 
strength. 

''Miss  Priscilla,  mam — "  he  said,  and 
stopped.  ''  Miss  Priscilla,"  he  began  again, 
and  paused  once  more. 

< '  Why  —  Sergeant !  ' '  she  exclaimed,  though 
it  was  a  very  soft  little  exclamation  indeed,  — 
for  her  hand  still  rested  in  his,  and  so  she  could 
feel  the  quiver  of  the  strong  fingers,  '  *  why  — • 
Sergeant!  " 

''  Miss  Priscilla, —  "  said  he,  beginning  all 
over  again,  but  with  no  better  success. 

''  Goodness  me!  "  exclaimed  Miss  Priscilla, 
*'  I  do  believe  he  is  going  to  forget  to  enquire 
about  the  peaches !  '  * 

''  Peaches!  "  repeated  the  Sergeant,  **  Yes, 
Priscilla." 

''  And  — why?  " 

*'  'Cause  he's  brought  you  a  ring,"  Small 
Porges  broke  in,  ''a  very  handsome  ring,  you 
know,  Aunt  Priscilla,  —  all  diamonds  an'  jew- 
els, an'  he  wants  you  to  please  let  him  put  it  on 
your  finger  —  if  you  don't  mind." 

"  And  —  here  it  is!  "  said  the  Sergeant,  and 
gave  it  into  her  hand. 


THE   MONEY   MOON  235 

Miss  Priscilla  stood  very  silent,  and  very 
still,  lookinii^  down  at  the  glittering  gems,  then, 
all  at  once,  her  eyes  filled,  and  a  slow  wave  of 
colour  dyed  her  cheeks : 

'*  Oh  Sergeant!  "  she  said,  very  softly,  "  Oh 
Sergeant,  I  am  only  a  poor,  old  woman  —  with 
a  lame  foot !  ' ' 

**  And  I  am  a  poor,  old  soldier  —  with  only 
one  arm,  Priscilla." 

**  You  are  the  strongest,  and  gentlest,  and 
bravest  soldier  in  all  the  world,  I  think!  "  she 
answered. 

"  And  you,  Priscilla,  are  the  sweetest,  and 
most  beautiful  woman  in  the  world,  I  know! 
And  so  —  I've  loved  you  all  these  years,  and  — 
never  dared  to  tell  you  so,  because  of  my  —  one 
arm." 

"  AMiy  then,"  said  Miss  Priscilla,  smiling  up 
at  him  through  her  tears,  "  if  you  do  —  really 
—  tliink  that,  —  why,  —  it's  this  finger.  Ser- 
geant! " 

So  the  Sergeant,  very  clumsily,  perhaps,  be- 
cause he  had  but  the  one  hand,  slipped  the  ring 
upon  the  finger  in  question.  And  Porges,  Big, 
and  Small,  turning  to  glance  back,  as  they  went 
upon  tlioir  way  saw  that  he  still  held  that  small,, 
white  hand  pressed  close  to  his  lips. 


CHAPTER   XXII 

Coming  events  cast  their  shadows  before 

**  I  s'posE  tliey'll  be  marrying  each,  other,  one 
of  these  fine  days !  ' '  said  Small  Porges  as  they; 
crossed  the  meadow,  side  by  side. 

^'  Yes,  I  expect  so,  Shipmate,"  nodded  Bel- 
lew,  "  and  may  they  live  long,  and  die  happy, 
say  I. ' ' 

*' Aye,  aye.  Captain,  —  an*  Amen!"  re- 
turned Small  Porges. 

Now  as  they  went,  conversing  of  marriage, 
and  ships,  and  the  wonders,  and  marvels  of 
foreign  lands,  —  they  met  with  Adam  who 
stared  up  at  the  sky  and  muttered  to  himself, 
and  frowned,  and  shook  his  head. 

''  Good  arternoon,  Mr.  Belloo  sir,  —  an' 
Master  Georgy!  " 

"  Well,  Adam,  how  are  the  hops!  " 

*'  'Ops  sir,  —  there  never  was  such  'ops, — 
no,  not  in  all  Kent,  sir.  All  I'm  wishin'  is  that 
they  was  all  safe  picked,  an'  gathered.  Wot 
do  you  make  o '  them  clouds,  sir,  —  over  there, 
—  jest  over  the  p'int  o'  the  oast-house?  " 

Bellew  turned,  and  cast  a  comprehensive, 
sailor-like  glance  in  the  direction  indicated. 


THE   MONEY   MOON  237 

*' Eain,  Adam,  and  wind,  —  and  plenty  of 
it!  "  said  he. 

**  Ah!  so  I  think,  sir,  —  driving  storm,  and 
thrashing  tempest!  " 

"  Well,  Adam!  " 

*'  Well,  sir,  —  p'raps  youVe  never  seen  w'ot 
driving  rain,  an'  raging  wind,  can  do  among 
the  'op-bines,  sir.  All  I  wish  is  that  they  'ops 
was  all  safe  picked  an'  gathered,  sir!  "  And 
Adam  strode  off  witli  Iiis  eve  still  turned 
heaven-ward,  and  shaking  his  head  like  some 
great  bird  of  ill-omen. 

So  the  afternoon  wore  away  to  evening,  and 
with  evening,  came  Anthea ;  but  a  very  grave- 
eyed,  troubled  Anthea,  who  sat  at  the  tea-table 
silent,  and  preoccupied,  —  in  so  much,  that 
Small  Porges  openly  wondered,  wliile  Miss 
Priscilla  watched  over  her,  wistful,  and 
tender. 

Thus,  Tea,  which  was  wont  to  be  the  merriest 
meal  of  the  day,  was  but  the  pale  ghost  of  what 
it  should  have  been,  despite  vSmall  Forges'  flow 
of  conversation,  (wlien  not  impeded  by  bread 
and  jam),  and  Bollew's  tactful  efforts.  Now 
while  he  talked  Hglit-heartedly,  keeping  care- 
fully to  generalities,  he  noticed  two  things, — 
one  was  that  Anthea  made  but  a  pretence  at 
eating,  and  the  second,  that  though  she  uttered 


238  THE   MONEY   MOON 

a  word,  now  and  then,  yet  her  eyes  persistently 
avoided  his. 

Thus,  he,  for  one,  was  relieved  when  tea  was 
over,  and,  as  he  rose  from  the  table,  he  deter- 
mined, despite  the  unpropitious  look  of  things, 
to  end  the  suspense,  one  way  or  another,  and 
speak  to  Anthea  just  so  soon  as  she  should  be 
alone. 

But  here  again  he  was  balked  and  disap- 
pointed, for  when  Small  Porges  came  to  bid  him 
good-night  as  usual,  he  learned  that  ''  Auntie 
Anthea  "  had  already  gone  to  bed. 

*'  She  says  it's  a  head-ache,"  said  Small 
Porges,  '*  but  I  'specks  it's  the  hops,  really,  you 
know." 

*'  The  hops,  my  Porges?  " 

*  *  She 's  worrying  about  them,  —  she 's  'f  raid 
of  a  storm,  like  Adam  is.  An'  when  she  wor- 
ries,—  I  worry.  Oh  Uncle  Porges!  —  if  only 
my  prayers  can  bring  the  Money  Moon  —  soon, 
you  know,  —  very  soon !  If  they  don't  bring  it 
in  a  day  or  two,  —  'f raid  I  shall  wake  up,  one 
fine  morning,  an'  find  I've  worried,  an'  worried 
myself  into  an  old  man." 

''  Never  fear,  Shipmate!  "  said  Bellew  in  his 
most  nautical  manner,  '*  '  all's  well  that  ends 
well,'  —  a-low,  and  aloft  all's  a-taunto.  So 
just  take  a  turn  at  the  lee  braces,  and  keep 


THE   MONEY   MOON  239 

your  weather  eye  lifting,  for  you  may  be  sure 
of  this,  —  if  the  storm  does  come,  —  it  will 
bring  the  Money  Moon  with  it." 

Then,  ha\'ing  bidden  Small  Porges  a  cheery 
**  Good-night  "  —  Bellew  went  out  to  walk 
among  the  roses.  And,  as  he  walked,  he 
watched  tlie  flying  wrack  of  clouds  above  his 
head,  and  listened  to  the  wind  that  moaned  in 
fitful  gusts.  Wherefore,  having  learned  in  his 
many  travels  to  read,  and  interpret  such  nat- 
ural signs  and  omens,  he  shook  his  head,  and 
muttered  to  himself  —  even  as  Adam  had  done 
before  him. 

Presently  he  wandered  back  into  tlie  house, 
and,  filling  his  pipe,  went  to  hold  communion 
with  his  friend  —  the  Cavalier. 

And  thus  it  was  that  having  ensconced  him- 
self in  the  great  elbow-chair,  and  raised  his 
eyes  to  the  picture,  he  espied  a  letter  tucked 
into  the  frame,  thereof.  Looking  closer,  he  saw 
tliat  it  was  directed  to  himself.  lie  took  it 
down,  and,  after  a  momentary  hesitation,  broke 
the  seal,  and  read : 


Miss  Devine  presents  hor  complimenta  to  Mr.  Rcllcw, 
and  regrets  to  say  that  owinp  to  unforeseen  circumstances, 
she  begs  that  he  will  provide  himself  with  other  quarters 
at  the  expiration  of  the  month,  being  the  Twenty-thini 
inst 


240  THE   MONEY   MOON 

Bellew  read  the  lines  slowly,  twice  over,  then, 
folding  the  note  very  carefully,  put  it  into  his 
pocket,  and  stood  for  a  long  time  staring  at 
nothing  in  particular.  At  length  he  lifted  his 
head,  and  looked  up  into  the  smiling  eyes  of  the 
Cavalier,  above  the  mantel. 

**  Sir,"  said  he,  very  gravely,  '*  it  would  al- 
most seem  that  you  were  in  the  right  of  it, — 
that  yours  is  the  best  method,  after  all !  "  Then 
he  knocked  the  ashes  from  his  pipe,  and  went, 
slowly,  and  heavily,  up-stairs  to  bed. 

It  was  a  long  time  before  he  fell  asleep,  but 
he  did  so  at  last,  for  Insomnia  is  a  demon  who 
rarely  finds  his  way  into  Arcadia.  But,  all  at 
once,  he  was  awake  again,  —  broad  awake,  and 
staring  into  the  dark,  for  a  thousand  voices 
seemed  to  be  screaming  in  his  ears,  and  eager 
hands  were  shaking,  and  plucking  at  window 
and  lattice.  He  started  up,  and  then  he  knew 
that  the  storm  was  upon  them,  at  last,  in  all  its 
fury,  —  rain,  and  a  mighty  wind,  —  a  howling 
raging  tempest.  Yes,  a  great,  and  mighty  wind 
was  abroad,  —  it  shrieked  under  the  eaves,  it 
boomed  and  bellowed  in  the  chimneys,  and 
roared  away  to  carry  destruction  among  the 
distant  woods;  while  the  rain  beat  hissing 
against  the  window-panes. 

Surely  in  all  its  many  years  the  old  house 


THE   MONEY   MOON  241 

of  Dapplemere  had  seldom  borne  the  brunt  of 
such  a  storm,  so  wild,  —  so  fierce,  and  pitiless^ 

And,  Ijing  there  upon  his  bed,  listening  to 
the  uproar,  and  tumult,  Bellew  must  needs 
think  of  her  who  had  once  said: 

**  We  are  placing  all  our  hopes,  this  year, 
upon  the  hops!  " 


CHAPTER   XXIII 

How  Small  Forges,  in  his  hour  of  need,  was 
deserted  hy  his  Uncle 

**  Ruined,  sir!  —  Done  for!  —  Lord  love  me! 
they  ain  't  worth  the  trouble  o '  gatherin '  — 
w'ot's  left  on  'em,  Mr.  Belloo  sir." 

'' So  bad  as  that,  Adam?  " 

**  Bad!  —  ah,  so  bad  as  ever  was,  sir!  "  said 
Adam,  blinking  suspiciously,  and  turning  sud- 
denly away. 

''  Has  Miss  Anthea  seen,  —  does  she  know?  " 

' '  Ah !  she  were  out  at  dawn,  and  Oh  Lord, 
Mr.  Belloo  sir!  I  can't  never  forget  her  poor, 
stricken  face,  —  so  pale  and  sad  it  were.  But 
she  never  said  nothing,  only :  '  Oh,  Adam !  — 
my  poor  hops!  '  An'  I  see  her  lips  all  of  a 
quiver  while  she  spoke.  An'  so  she  turned 
away,  an'  came  back  to  the  'ouse,  sir.  Poor 
lass!  Oh  poor  lass!  "  he  exclaimed,  his  voice 
growing  more  husky.  ''  She's  made  a  brave 
fight  for  it,  sir,  —  but  it  weren't  no  use,  ye  see, 
—  it'll  be  '  Good-bye  '  for  her  to  Dapplemere, 
arter  all,  that  there  mortgage  can't  never  be 
paid  now,  —  nohow. ' ' 


THE   MONEY   MOON  243 

**  When  is  it  due?  " 

"  "Well,  according  to  the  bond,  or  the  deed, 
or  whatever  they  calls  it,  —  it  be  doo  —  to- 
night, at  nine  o'clock,  sir,  —  though  Old  Grimes, 
—  as  a  special  favour,  an'  arter  much  per- 
suading, —  'ad  agreed  to  liold  over  till  next 
Saturday,  —  on  account  o' the  'op-picking.  But 
now  —  seeing  as  there  ain't  no  'ops  to  be 
picked,  —  wliy  he'll  fore-close  to-night,  an'  glad 
enough  to  do  it,  you  can  lay  your  oath  on  that, 
Mr.  Belloo  sir." 

"  To-night!  "  said  Bellew,  ''  to-night!  "  and 
he  stood,  for  a  while  with  bent  head,  as  though 
lost  in  profound  thought.  **  Adam,"  said  he, 
suddenly, ''  help  me  to  harness  the  mare,  I  must 
drive  over  to  the  nearest  rail-road  depot,  — 
hurry,  I  must  be  off,  the  sooner,  the  better." 

"  TVliat!  — be  you  — goin'  sir?  " 

"  Yes;  —  hurry,  man,  —  hurry!  " 

**  D'ye  mean  as  you're  a-goin'  to  leave  her  — 
now,  in  the  middle  o'  all  this  trouble?  " 

**  Yes,  Adam,  —  I  must  go  to  Tjondon  —  on 
business,  —  now  hurry,  like  a  good  fellow." 
And  so,  together  they  entered  the  stable,  and 
together  tlioy  harnessed  the  mare.  A^^li('h 
done,  staying  not  for  breakfast,  Bellew 
mounted  the  driver's  seat,  and,  with  Adam  be- 
side him,  drove  rapidly  away. 


244  THE   MONEY  MOON 

But  Small  Porges  had  seen  these  prepara- 
tions, and  now  came  running  all  eagerness,  but 
ere  he  could  reach  the  yard,  Bellew  was  out  of 
ear-shot. 

So  there  stood  Small  Porges,  a  desolate  little 
figure,  watching  the  rapid  course  of  the  dog- 
cart until  it  had  vanished  over  the  brow  of  the 
hill.  And  then,  all  at  once  the  tears  welled  up 
into  his  eyes  hot,  and  scalding,  and  a  great  sob 
burst  from  him,  for  it  seemed  to  him  that  his 
beloved  Uncle  Porges  had  failed  him  at  the 
crucial  moment,  —  had  left  him  solitary  just 
when  he  needed  him  most. 

Thus  Small  Porges  gave  way  to  his  grief, 
hidden  in  the  very  darkest  corner  of  the  stable, 
whither  he  had  retired  lest  any  should  observe 
his  weakness,  until  having  once  more  gained 
command  of  himself,  and  wiped  away  his  tears 
with  his  small,  and  dingy  pocket-handkerchief, 
he  slowly  re-crossed  the  yard,  and  entering  the 
house  went  to  look  for  his  Auntie  Anthea. 

And,  after  much  search,  he  found  her  —  half - 
lying,  half-kneeling  beside  his  bed.  When  he 
spoke  to  her,  though  she  answered  him,  she  did 
not  look  up,  and  he  knew  that  she  was  weeping. 

' '  Don 't.  Auntie  Anthea,  —  don 't !  "  he 
pleaded.  *'  I  know  Uncle  Porges  has  gone 
away,  an*  left  us,  but  you've  got  me  left,  you 


THE   MONEY   MOON  245 

know,  —  au'  I  shall  be  a  man  —  very  soon, — 
before  my  time,  I  think.  So  —  don't  cry, — 
though  I'm  awful'  sorry  he's  gone,  too  —  just 
when  we  needed  him  the  most,  vou  know!  " 

"  Oh  Georgy!  "  she  whispered,  "  my  dear, 
brave  little  Georgy!  We  shall  only  have  each 
other  soon,  —  they're  going  to  take  Dapple- 
mere  away  from  us,  —  and  everything  we  have 
in  the  world,  —  Oh  Georgy!  " 

*  *  Well,  never  mind !  ' '  said  he,  kneeling  be- 
side her,  and  drawing  one  small  arm  protect- 
ingly  about  her,  **  we  shall  always  have  each 
other  left,  you  know,  —  nobody  shall  ever  take 
you  away  from  me.  An'  then  —  there's  the  — 
Money  Moon!  It's  been  an  awful'  long  time 
coming,  —  but  it  may  come  to-night,  or  to- 
morrow night.  B.e  said  it  would  be  sure  to 
come  if  the  storm  came,  an'  so  I'll  find  the  for- 
tune for  you  at  last.  I  know  I  shall  find  it  some 
day  a  course —  'cause  I've  prayed,  an'  prayed 
for  it  so  very  hard,  an'  He  said  my  prayers 
went  straight  up  to  heaven,  an'  didn't  get 
blown  away,  or  lost  in  the  clouds.  So  —  don't 
cry,  Auntie  Anthea  let's  wait  —  just  a  little 
longer  —  till  the  Money  Moon  comes." 


CHAPTER   XXIV 

In  which  shall  he  found  mention  of  a  certain 

black  bag 

**  Baxter!  " 

''  Sir?  " 

*'  Get  me  a  pen,  and  ink!  " 

*'  Yes,  sir." 

Now  any  ordinary  mortal  might  have  mani- 
fested just  a  little  surprise  to  behold  his  master 
walk  suddenly  in,  dusty  and  dishevelled  of  per- 
son, his  habitual  languor  entirely  laid  aside, 
and  to  thus  demand  pen  and  ink,  forthwith. 
But  then,  Baxter,  though  mortal,  was  the  very 
cream  of  a  gentleman's  gentleman,  and  the 
acme  of  valets,  (as  has  been  said),  and  com- 
ported himself  accordingly. 

''Baxter!" 

''  Sir?  " 

*'  Oblige  me  by  getting  this  cashed." 

*'  Yes,  sir." 

*'  Bring  half  of  it  in  gold." 

"  Sir,"  said  Baxter,  glancing  down  at  the 
slip  of  paper,  "  did  you  say  —  half,  sir?  " 

*'  Yes,  Baxter,  —  I'd  take  it  all  in  gold  only 


THE   MONEY   MOON  247 

that  it  would  be  rather  awkward  to  drag 
around.  So  bring  half  in  gold,  and  the  rest  ia 
—  five  pound  notes." 

**  Very  good,  sir!  " 

'*  And  — Baxter!  " 

♦'  Sir?  " 

'*  Take  a  cab!  " 

**  Certainly  sir."  And  Baxter  went  out,  clos- 
ing the  door  behind  him.  Meanwhile  Bellow 
busied  himself  in  removing  all  traces  of  liis 
journey,  and  was  already  bathed,  and  shaved, 
and  dressed,  by  the  time  Baxter  returned. 

Now  gripped  in  his  right  hand  Baxter  car- 
ried a  black  leather  bag  which  jingled  as  he  set 
it  down  upon  the  table. 

*'  Got  it?  "  enquired  Bellew, 

'*  I  have,  sir." 

"  Good!  "  nodded  Bellew.  ''  Now  just  run 
around  to  the  garage,  and  fetch  the  new  racing 
car,  —  the  Mercedes." 

"  Now,  sir?  " 

"  Now,  Baxter!  " 

Once  more  Baxter  departed,  and,  while  he 
was  gone,  Bellew  began  to  pack,  —  that  is  to 
say,  he  bundled  coats  and  trousers,  shirts  and 
boots  into  a  portmanteau  in  a  way  that  would 
have  wrung  Baxter's  heart,  could  he  have  seen. 
Wliich    done,    Bellew    opened    the    black    bag, 


248  THE   MONEY   MOON 

glanced  inside,  shut  it  again,  and,  lighting  his 
pipe,  stretched  himself  out  upon  an  ottoman, 
and  immediately  became  plunged  in  thought. 

So  lost  was  he,  indeed,  that  Baxter,  upon  his 
return  was  necessitated  to  emit  three  distinct 
coughs, —  (the  most  perfectly  proper,  and 
gentleman-like  coughs  in  the  world)  ere  Bellew 
was  aware  of  his  presence. 

^'  Oh!  —  that  you,  Baxter?  "  said  he,  sitting 
np,  *'  back  so  soon?  " 

''  The  car  is  at  the  door,  sir.'* 

''  The  car?  —  ah  yes,  to  be  sure!  —  Baxter.'' 

' '  What  should  you  say  if  I  told  you  —  ' ' 
Bellew  paused  to  strike  a  match,  broke  it,  tried 
another,  broke  that,  and  finally  put  his  pipe 
back  into  his  pocket,  very  conscious  the  while 
of  Baxter's  steady,  though  perfectly  respectful 
regard. 

''  Baxter,"  said  he  again. 

''Sir?  "said  Baxter. 

"  What  should  you  say  if  I  told  you  that  I 
was  in  love  —  at  last,  Baxter!  —  Head  over 
ears  —  hopelessly  —  irretrievably?  " 

"  Say,  sir?  —  why  I  should  say,  —  indeed, 
sir?  " 

''  What  should  you  say,"  pursued  Bellew, 
staring  thoughtfully  down  at  the  rug  under  his 


THE   MONEY   MOON  249 

feet,  "  if  I  told  you  that  I  am  so  very  miicli  in 
love  that  I  am  positively  afraid  to  —  tell  her 

80T  " 

'*  I  should  say  —  very  remarkable,  sir!  " 

Bellew  took  out  his  pipe  again,  looked  at  it 
very  much  as  if  he  had  never  seen  such  a  thing 
before,  and  laid  it  down  upon  the  mantelpiece. 

"  Baxter,"  said  he,  *'  kindly  understand  that 
I  am  speaking  to  you  as  —  er  —  man  to  man,  — 
as  my  father's  old  and  trusted  servant  and 
my  early  boy-hood's  only  friend;  sit  down, 
John." 

"  Thank  you.  Master  George,  sir." 

'*  I  wish  to  —  confess  to  you,  John,  that  — 
er  —  regarding  the  —  er  —  Haunting  Spectre 
of  the  Might  Have  Been,  —  you  were  entirely 
in  the  right.  At  that  time  I  knew  no  more  the 
meaning  of  the  —  er  —  the  word,  John  —  " 

**  Meaning  the  word  —  Love,  Master 
George?  " 

**  Preciselv;  I  knew  no  more  about  it  than  — 
that  table.  But  during  tliese  latter  days,  I  have 
begun  to  understand,  and  —  or  —  the  fact  of 
the  matter  is  —  I'm  —  I'm  fairly  —  up  against 
it,  John!  '» 

Here,  Baxter,  who  had  been  watching  hira 
with  his  quick,  sharp  eyes  nodded  his  head  sol- 
emnly : 


250  THE   MONEY   MOON 

'*  Master  George,"  said  he,  *'  speaking  as 
your  father's  old  servant,  and  your  boyhood's 
friend,  —  I'm  afraid  you  are." 

Bellew  took  a  turn  up  and  down  the  room, 
and  then  pausing  in  front  of  Baxter,  (who 
had  risen  also,  as  a  matter  of  course),  he 
suddenly  laid  his  two  hands  upon  his  valet's 
shoulders. 

"  Baxter,"  said  he,  ''  you'll  remember  that 
after  my  mother  died,  my  father  was  always  too 
busy  piling  up  his  millions  to  give  much  time 
or  thought  to  me,  and  I  should  have  been  a  very 
lonely  small  boy  if  it  hadn  't  been  for  you,  John 
Baxter.  I  was  often  '  up  against  it,'  in  those 
days,  John,  and  you  were  always  ready  to  help, 
and  advise  me;  —  but  now,  —  well,  from  the 
look  of  things,  I'm  rather  afraid  that  I  must 
stay  '  up  against  it  '  —  that  the  game  is  lost 
already,  John.  But  which  ever  way  Fate  de- 
cides—  win,  or  lose,  —  I'm  glad  —  yes,  very 
glad  to  have  learned  the  true  meaning  of  —  the 
word,  John." 

"Master  George,  sir,  —  there  was  a  poet 
once  —  Tennyson,  I  think,  who  said,  —  *  'Tis 
better  to  have  loved  and  lost  than  never  to  have 
loved  at  all, '  and  I  know  —  that  he  was  —  right. 
Many  years  ago,  —  before  you  were  born,  Mas- 
ter George,  I  loved  —  and  lost,  and  that  is  how 


THE   MONEY   MOON  251 

I  know.  But  I  hope  that  Fortune  will  bo  kinder 
to  you,  indeed  I  do." 

"Thank  you,  John,  —  though  I  don't  see 
why  she  should  be."  And  Bellew  stood  staring 
down  at  the  rug  again,  till  aroused  by  Baxter's 
cough : 

'*  Pray  sir,  what  are  your  orders,  the  car  is 
waiting  downstairs?  " 

*  *  Orders  1  —  why  —  or  —  pack  your  grip, 
Baxter,  I  shall  take  you  with  me,  this  time,  into 
Arcadia,  Baxter." 

"  For  how  long,  sir?  " 

**  Probably  a  week." 

*•  Very  good,  sir." 

"  It  is  now  half-past  three,  I  must  be  back  in 
Dapplemere  at  eight.  Take  your  time  —  I'll  go 
down  to  look  at  the  machine.  Just  lock  the 
place  up,  and  —  er  —  don't  forget  the  black 
bag." 

Some  ten  minutes  later  the  great  racing  car 
set  out  on  its  journey,  with  Bollew  at  the  wheel, 
and  Baxter  beside  him  with  the  black  bag  held 
firmly  upon  his  knee. 

Their  process  was,  necessarily,  slow  at  first, 
on  account  of  the  crowded  thoroughfares.  But, 
every  now  and  then,  the  long,  low  car  would 
shoot  forward  through  some  gaj)  in  ilie  traffic, 
grazing  the  hubs  of  bus- wheels,  dodging  ban- 


252  THE   MONEY,  MOON 

soms,  shaving  sudden  corners  in  an  apparently 
reckless  manner.  But  Baxter,  with  his  hand 
always  upon  the  black  leather  bag,  sat  calm  and 
unruffled,  since  he  knew,  by  long  experience, 
that  Bellew's  eye  was  quick  and  true,  and  his 
hand  firm  and  sure  upon  the  wheel. 

Over  Westminster  Bridge,  and  along  the  Old 
Kent  Road  they  sped,  now  fast,  now  slow, — 
threading  a  tortuous,  and  difficult  way  amid 
the  myriad  vehicles,  and  so,  betimes,  they 
reached  Blackheath. 

And  now  the  powerful  machine  hummed  over 
that  ancient  road  that  had  aforetime,  shaken  to 
the  tread  of  stalwart  Roman  Legionaries, — 
up  Shooter 's  Hill,  and  down,  —  and  so  into  the 
open  country. 

And,  ever  as  they  went,  they  talked.  And 
not  as  master  and  servant  but  as  ' '  between  man 
and  man,"  —  wherefore  Baxter  the  Valet  be- 
came merged  and  lost  in  Baxter  the  Human,  — 
the  honest  John  of  the  old  days,  —  a  gray 
haired,  Mndly-eyed,  middle-aged  cosmopolitan 
who  listened  to,  and  looked  at.  Young  Alcides 
beside  him  as  if  he  had  indeed  been  the  Master 
George,  of  years  ago. 

''  So  you  see,  John,  if  all  things  do  go  well 
with  me,  we  should  probably  take  a  trip  to  the 
Mediterranean. ' ' 


THE   MONEY   MOON  253 

**  In  the  —  'Silvia,'  of  course,  Master 
George?  " 

*'Yes;  though  —  er  —  I've  decided  to 
chauge  her  uame,  John." 

"Ah!  —  very  natural  —  under  the  circum- 
stances. Master  George,"  said  honest  John, 
his  eyes  twinkling  slyly  as  he  spoke,  *'  Now, 
if  I  might  suggest  a  new  name  it  would  be 
hard  to  find  a  more  original  one  than  '  The 
Haunting  Spectre  of  the —  " 

''Bosh,  John!  —  there  never  was  such  a 
thing,  you  were  quite  right,  as  I  said  before, 
and  —  by  heaven,  —  potato  sacks!  " 

"  Eh,  —  what?  —  potato  sacks.  Master 
George?  " 

They  had  been  climbing  a  long,  winding 
ascent,  but  now,  having  reached  the  top  of  the 
hill,  they  overtook  a  great,  lumbering  market 
cart,  or  wain,  piled  high  with  sacks  of  potatoes, 
and  driven  by  an  extremely  surly-faced  man  in 
a  smock-frock. 

"  Hallo  there!  "  cried  Bellow,  slowing  up, 
*'  how  m  "ch  for  one  of  j^our  potato-sacks?  " 

"  Get  out,  now!  "  growled  the  surly-faced 
man,  in  a  tone  as  surly  as  his  look,  "  can't 
ye  see  as  they're  all  occipied?  " 

'*  Well,  —  empty  one." 

"  Get  out,  now!  "  repeated  the  man,  scowl- 
ing blacker  than  ever. 


254  THE   MONEY   MOON 


i  i 


I'll  give  you  a  sovereign  for  one." 

'*  Now,  don't  ye  try  to  come  none  o'  your 
jokes  wi'  me,  young  feller!  "  growled  the  car- 
ter.   ' '  Sovereign !  —  bah !  —  Show  us. ' ' 

''  Here  it  is,"  said  Bellew,  holding  up  the 
coin  in  question.  ''  Catch!  "  and,  with  the 
word,  he  tossed  it  up  to  the  carter  who  caught 
it,  very  dexterously,  looked  at  it,  bit  it,  rubbed 
it  on  his  sleeve,  rang  it  upon  the  foot-board  of 
his  waggon,  bit  it  again  and  finally  pocketed 
it. 

''It's  a  go,  sir,"  he  nodded,  his  scowl  van- 
ishing as  by  magic;  and  as  he  spoke,  he 
turned,  seized  the  nearest  sack,  and,  forthwith 
sent  a  cascade  of  potatoes  rolling,  and  bound- 
ing all  over  the  road.  Which  done,  he  folded 
up  the  sack,  and  handed  it  down  to  Bellew  who 
thrust  it  under  the  seat,  nodded,  and,  throwing 
in  the  clutch,  set  off  down  the  road.  But,  long 
after  the  car  had  hummed  itself  out  of  sight, 
and  the  dust  of  its  going  had  subsided,  the 
carter  sat  staring  after  it  —  open-mouthed. 

If  Baxter  wondered  at  this  purchase,  he  said 
nothing,  only  he  bent  his  gaze  thoughtfully 
upon  the  black  leather  bag  that  he  held  upon 
his  knee. 

On  they  sped  between  fragrant  hedges,  un- 
der whispering  trees,  past  lonely  cottages  and 


THE   MONEY   MOOX  255 

farm-houses,  past  gate,  and  field,  and  wood, 
until  the  sun  grew  low. 

At  last,  Bellew  stopped  the  automobile  at  a 
place  where  a  narrow  lane,  or  cart  track, 
branched  off  from  the  high  road,  and  wound 
away  between  great  trees. 

'*  I  leave  you  here,"  said  lie  as  he  sprang 
from  the  ear,  **  this  is  Dapplemere,  —  the  farm- 
house lies  over  the  up-land,  yonder,  though  you 
can't  see  it  because  of  the  trees." 

"Is  it  far.  Master  George?  " 

"  About  half  a  mile." 

"  Here  is  the  bag,  sir;  but  —  do  you  think 
it  is  —  quite  safe — ?  " 

"  Safe,  John?  " 

"  Under  the  circumstances,  Master  George, 
I  think  it  would  be  advisable  to  —  to  take  this 
with  you."  And  he  held  out  a  small  revolver. 
Bellow  laughed,  and  shook  his  head. 

*'  Such  things  aren't  necessary  —  here  in 
Arcadia,  John,  —  besides,  I  have  my  stick.  So 
good-bye,  for  tlio  present,  you'll  stay  at  the 
*  King's  TIcad,'  —  remember." 

"  Good-night,  Master  George,  sir,  good- 
night! and  good  fortune  go  with  you." 

**  Tliank  you!"  said  Bellew,  and  reached 
out  his  hand,  **  I  think  we'll  shake  on  that, 
John!  " 


256  THE   MONEY   MOON 

So  they  clasped  hands,  and  Bellew  turned, 
and  set  off  along  the  grassy  lane.  And,  pres- 
ently, as  he  went,  he  heard  the  hum  of  the  car 
grow  rapidly  fainter  and  fainter  until  it  was 
lost  in  the  quiet  of  the  evening. 


CHAPTER   XXV 

The  Conspirators 

The  shadows  were  creeping  down,  and  even- 
ing was  approaching,  as  Bellew  took  his  way 
alonff  that  winding  lane  that  led  to  the  House 


*o 


of  Dapplemere. 

Had  there  been  anyone  to  see,  (which  there 
was  not),  they  might  have  noticed  something 
almost  furtive  in  his  manner  of  approach,  for 
he  walked  always  under  the  trees  where  the 
shadows  lay  thickest,  and  paused,  once  or  twice, 
to  look  about  him  warily.  Being  come  within 
sight  of  the  house,  he  turned  aside,  and  forcing 
his  way  through  a  gap  in  the  hedge,  came  by  a 
roundabout  course  to  the  farm-yard.  Here, 
after  some  search,  he  discovered  a  spade,  the 
which,  (having  discarded  his  stick),  he  took 
upon  his  shoulder,  and  with  the  black  leather 
bag  tucked  under  his  arm,  crossed  the  paddock 
with  tlie  same  degree  of  caution,  and  so,  at  last, 
roacliod  tlie  orcliard.  On  he  went,  always  in  the 
shadow  until,  at  lengtli,  lie  paused  beneath  tlie 
miglity,  knotted  brandies  of  "  King  Arthur." 
Never  did  conspirator  glance  aliout  him  with 
sharper  eyes,  or  hearken  witli  keener  ears,  than 


258  THE   MONEY  MOON 

did  George  Bellew,  —  or  Conspirator  No.  One, 
where  he  now  stood  beneath  the  protecting 
shadow  of  ''  King  Arthur,"  —  or  Conspirator 
No.  Two,  as,  having  unfolded  the  potato  sack, 
he  opened  the  black  leather  bag. 

The  moon  was  rising  broad,  and  yellow,  but 
it  was  low  as  yet,  and  ^'  King  Arthur  "  stood 
in  impenetrable  gloom,  —  as  any  other  thor- 
ough-going, self-respecting  conspirator  should ; 
and  now,  all  at  once,  from  this  particular  patch 
of  shadow,  there  came  a  sudden  sound,  —  a 
rushing  sound,  —  a  chinking,  clinking,  metallic 
sound,  and,  thereafter,  a  crisp  rustling  that  was 
not  the  rustling  of  ordinary  paper. 

And  now  Conspirator  No.  One  rises,  and  ties 
the  mouth  of  the  sack  with  string  he  had 
brought  with  him  for  the  purpose,  and  setting 
down  the  sack,  bulky  now  and  heavy,  by  Con- 
spirator No.  Two,  takes  up  the  spade  and  be- 
gins to  dig.  And,  in  a  while,  having  made  an 
excavation  not  very  deep  to  be  sure,  but  suffi- 
cient to  his  purpose,  he  deposits  the  sack  within, 
covers  it  with  soil,  treads  it  down,  and  re- 
placing the  torn  sod,  carefully  pats  it  down  with 
the  flat  of  his  spade.  Which  thing  accomplished, 
Conspirator  No.  One  wipes  his  brow,  and  step- 
ping forth  of  the  shadow,  consults  his  watch 
with   anxious   eye,   and,   thereupon,   smiles, — • 


THE   MONEY   MOON  259 

surely  a  singularly  pleasing  smile  for  the  lips 
of  an  arch-conspirator  to  wear.  Thereafter  he 
takes  up  the  black  bag,  empty  now,  shoulders 
the  spade,  and  sets  off,  keeping  once  more  in  the 
shadows,  leaving  Conspirator  No.  Two  to  guard 
their  guilty  secret. 

Now,  as  Conspirator  No.  One  goes  his  shady 
way,  he  keeps  his  look  directed  towards  the 
rising  moon,  and  thus  he  almost  runs  into  one 
who  also  stands  amid  the  shadows  and  whose 
gaze  is  likewise  fixed  upon  the  moon. 

**  Ah?  —  Mr.  Bellew!  "  exclaims  a  drawling 
voice,  and  Squire  Cassilis  turns  to  regard  him 
with  his  usual  supercilious  smile.  Indeed 
Squire  Cassilis  seems  to  be  even  more  self- 
satisfied,  and  smiling  than  ordinary,  to-night,  — 
or  at  least  Bellew  imagines  so. 

"  You  are  still  agriculturally  inclined,  I  see,'* 
said  Mr.  Cassilis,  nodding  towards  the  spade, 
"  though  it's  rather  a  queer  time  to  choose  for 
digging,  isn't  it?  " 

**  Not  at  all,  sir  —  not  at  all,"  returned  Bel- 
lew solemnly,  "  the  moon  is  very  nearly  at  the 
full,  you  will  perceive." 

"  Well,  sir,  — and  what  of  that?  " 

"  "Wlien  the  moon  is  at  the  full,  or  nearly  so, 
I  generally  dig,  sir,  —  that  is  to  say,  circum- 
stances permitting." 


260  THE   MONEY   MOON 

"  Eeally,"  said  Mr.  Cassilis  beginning  to 
caress  his  moustache,  * '  it  seems  to  me  that 
you  have  very  —  ah  —  pecuhar  tastes,  Mr. 
Bellew." 

''  That  is  because  you  have  probably  never 
experienced  the  fierce  joys  of  moon-light  dig- 
ging, sir." 

*'  No,  Mr.  Bellew,  —  digging  —  as  a  recrea- 
tion, has  never  appealed  to  me  at  any  time." 

''  Then  sir,"  said  Bellew,  shaking  his  head, 
**  permit  me  to  tell  you  that  you  have  missed  a 
great  deal.  Had  I  the  time,  I  should  be  de- 
lighted to  explain  to  you  exactly  how  much,  as 
it  is  —  allow  me  to  wish  you  a  very  good  eve- 
ning. ' ' 

Mr.  Cassilis  smiled,  and  his  teeth  seemed  to 
gleam  whiter,  and  sharper  than  ever  in  the 
moon-light : 

' '  Wouldn  't  it  be  rather  more  apropos  if  you 
said  — '  Good-bye  '  Mr.  Bellew?  "  he  enquired. 
*'  You  are  leaving  Dapplemere,  shortly,  I  un- 
derstand,—  aren't  you?  " 

'<  Why  sir,"  returned  Bellew,  grave,  and 
imperturbable  as  ever,  — '  *  it  all  depends. 

**  Depends!  —  upon  what,  may  I  ask?  " 

**  The  moon,  sir." 

**  The  moon?  '*' 

**  Precisely! 


if 


>> 


THE   MONEY   MOON  261 

*'  And  pray  —  what  can  the  moon  have  to  do 
with  your  departure?  " 

**  A  great  deal  more  than  you'd  think  —  sir. 
Had  I  the  time,  I  sliould  be  delighted  to  explain 
to  you  exactly  how  much,  as  it  is,  —  permit  me 
to  wish  you  a  very  —  good  evening!  " 

Saying  wliich,  Bollew  nodded  afTably,  and, 
shouldering  his  spade,  went  upon  his  way.  And 
still  he  walked  in  the  shadows,  and  still  he 
gazed  upon  the  moon,  but  now,  his  thick  brows 
were  gathered  in  a  frown,  and  he  was  wonder- 
ing just  why  Cassilis  should  chance  to  be  here, 
to-night,  and  what  his  confident  air,  and  the 
general  assurance  of  his  manner  might  por- 
tend; above  all,  he  was  wondering  how  Mr. 
Cassilis  came  to  be  aware  of  his  own  impending 
departure.  And  so,  at  last,  he  came  to  the  rick- 
yard, —  full  of  increasing  doubt  and  misgiv- 
ings. 


CHAPTER  XXVI 

How  the  money  moon  rose 

Evening  had  deepened  into  night,  —  a  night 
of  ineffable  calm,  a  night  of  an  all  pervading 
quietude.  A  horse  snorted  in  the  stable  near- 
by, a  dog  barked  in  the  distance,  but  these 
sounds  served  only  to  render  the  silence  the 
more  profound,  by  contrast.  It  was,  indeed,  a 
night  wherein  pixies,  and  elves,  and  goblins, 
and  fairies  might  weave  their  magic  spells,  a 
night  wherein  tired  humanity  dreamed  those 
dreams  that  seem  so  hopelessly  impossible  by 
day. 

And,  over  all,  the  moon  rose  high,  and 
higher,  in  solemn  majesty,  filling  the  world 
with  her  pale  loveliness,  and  brooding  over 
it  like  the  gentle  goddess  she  is.  Even  the 
distant  dog  seemed  to  feel  something  of  all 
this,  for,  after  a  futile  bark  or  two,  he  gave 
it  up  altogether,  and  was  heard  no  more. 

And  Bellew,  gazing  up  at  Luna's  pale  seren- 
ity, smiled  and  nodded,  —  as  much  as  to  say, 
*'  You'll  do!  "  and  so  stood  leaning  upon  his 
spade  listening  to: 


THE   MONEY   MOON  263 

"  That  deep  hush  which  seems  a  sigh 
Breathed  by  Earth  to  listeaing  sky." 

Now,  all  at  once,  uiK)n  this  quietude  there 
rose  a  voice  up-raised  in  fervent  supplic^ition ; 
wherefore,  treading  very  softly,  Bellew  came, 
and  peeping  round  the  hay-rick,  beheld  Small 
Porges  upon  his  knees.  He  was  equipped  for 
travel  and  the  perils  of  the  road,  for  beside 
him  lay  a  stick,  and  tied  to  this  stick  was  a 
bundle  that  bulged  with  his  most  cherished 
possessions.  His  cheeks  were  wet  with  great 
tears  that  glistened  in  the  moon-beams,  but 
he  wept  with  eyes  tight  shut,  and  with  his 
small  hands  clasped  close  together,  and  thus 
he  spoke,  —  albeit  much  shaken,  and  hindered 
by  sobs : 

**  I  s'pose  you  think  I  bother  you  an  awful 
lot,  dear  Lord,  —  an'  so  I  do,  but  you  haven't 
sent  the  Money  Moon  yet,  you  see,  an'  now 
my  Auntie  Anthea's  got  to  leave  Dapplemere 
—  if  I  don't  find  the  fortune  for  her  soon,  I 
know  I'm  crying  a  lot,  an'  real  men  don't 
cry,  —  but  it's  only  'cause  I'm  awful  —  lonely 
an'  disappointed,  —  an'  nobody  can  see  me,  so 
it  doesn't  matter.  But,  dear  Lord,  I've  looked 
an'  looked  everj-where,  an'  I  haven't  found  a 
single  sovereign  yet,  —  an'  I've  prayed  to  you, 
an'  prayed  to  you  for  the  Money  Moon  an* 


26^  THE   MONEY   MOON 

—  it's  never  come.  So  now,  dear  Lord,  I'm 
going  to  Africa,  an'  I  want  you  to  please  take 
<3are  of  my  Auntie  Anthea  till  I  come  back. 
Sometimes  I'm  'fraid  my  prayers  can't  quite 
manage  to  get  up  to  you  'cause  of  the  clouds, 
an'  wind,  but  to-night  there  isn't  any,  so,  if 
they  do  reach  you,  please  —  Oh !  please  let  me 
find  the  fortune,  and,  if  you  don't  mind,  let  — 
Mm  come  back  to  me,  dear  Lord,  —  I  mean  my 
Uncle  Porges,  you  know.  An'  now  —  that's  all, 
dear  Lord,  so  Amen!  " 

As  the  prayer  ended  Bellew  stole  back,  and 
coming  to  the  gate  of  the  rick-yard,  leaned 
there  waiting.  And,  presently,  as  he  watched, 
he  saw  a  small  figure  emerge  from  behind  the 
big  hay- stack  and  come  striding  manfully  to- 
ward him,  his  bundle  upon  his  shoulder,  and 
with  the  moon  bright  in  his  curls. 

But,  all  at  once.  Small  Porges  saw  him  and 
stopped,  and  the  stick  and  bundle  fell  to  the 
ground  and  lay  neglected. 

<<  Why  —  my  Porges!  "  said  Bellew,  a  trifle 
huskily,  perhaps,  ''why,  Shipmate!'*  and  he 
held  out  his  hands.  Then  Small  Porges  uttered 
a  cry,  and  came  running,  and  next  moment  Big 
Porges  had  him  in  his  arms. 

* '  Oh,  Uncle  Porges !  —  then  you  —  have 
come  back  to  me!  " 


THE   MONEY   MOON  265 

*'  Aye,  aye,  Shipmate." 

**  AVhy,  then  —  my  prayers  did  reach!  " 

"  AMiy,  of  course,  —  prayers  always  reach, 
my  Forges." 

"  Then,  oh!  —  do  you  s'pose  I  shall  find  the 
fortune,  too?  " 

"Not  a  doubt  of  it,  —  just  look  at  the 
moon!  " 

'*  The  — moon?  " 

**  AVhy,  haven't  you  noticed  how  —  er  — 
peculiar  it  is  to-night?  " 

'*  Peculiar?  "  repeated  Small  Forges  breath- 
lessly, turning  to  look  at  it. 

**  ^Miy,  yes,  my  Forges,  —  big,  you  know, 
and  —  er  —  yellow,  —  like  —  er  —  like  a  very 
large  sovereign." 

"  Do  you  mean —      Oh!    do  you  mean  — 
it's  —  the —  "    But  here  Small  Forges  choked 
suddenly,  and  could  only  look  his  question. 

"The  Money  Moon?  —  Oh  yes  —  there  she 
is  at  last,  my  Forges!  Take  a  good  look  at 
her,  I  don't  suppose  we  shall  ever  see  another," 

Small  Forges  stood  very  still,  and  gazed  up 
at  the  moon's  broad,  yellow  disc,  and,  as  he 
looked  the  tears  welled  up  in  his  eyes  again, 
and  a  great  sob  broke  from  him. 

"I'm  so  —  glad!"  he  whispered.  "So  — 
awful  —  glad!"     Then,   suddenly,   he   daslied 


266  THE   MONEY  MOON 

away  his  tears  and  slipped  his  small,  trembling 
hand  into  Bellew's. 

^  *  Quick,  Uncle  Porges !  ' '  said  he,  ' '  Mr. 
Grimes  is  coming  to-night,  you  know  —  an'  we 
must  find  the  money  in  time.  Where  shall  we 
look  first?  " 

' '  Well,  I  guess  the  orchard  will  do  —  to 
start  with." 

**  Then  let's  go  —  now." 

''  But  we  shall  need  a  couple  of  spades, 
Shipmate. ' ' 

"  Oh!  — must  we  dig?  " 

**  Yes,  —  I  fancy  that's  a  —  er  —  digging 
moon,  my  Porges,  from  the  look  of  it.  Ah! 
there's  a  spade,  nice  and  handy,  you  take  that 
and  I'll  —  er  —  I'll  manage  with  this  pitch- 
fork." 

''  But  you  can't  dig  with  a —  " 

* '  Oh !  well  —  you  can  do  the  digging,  and 
I'll  just  —  er  —  prod,  you  know.  Ready?  — 
then  heave  ahead,  Shipmate. ' ' 

So  they  set  out,  hand  in  hand,  spade  and 
pitch-fork  on  shoulder,  and  presently  were 
come  to  the  orchard. 

''  It's  an  awful  big  place  to  dig  up  a  fortune 
in!  "  said  Small  Porges,  glancing  about. 
"  Where  do  you  s'pose  we'd  better  begin?  " 

**  Well,  Shipmate,  between  you  and  me,  and 


THE    MONEY   MOON  2G7 

the  pitch-fork  here,  I  rather  fancy  *  King 
Arthur  '  knows  more  than  most  people  would 
think.  ^\jiy  way,  we'll  try  him.  You  dig  on 
that  side,  and  I'll  prod  on  this." 

Saying  which,  Bellew  pointed  to  a  certain 
spot  where  the  grass  looked  somewhat  uneven, 
and  peculiarly  bumpy,  and,  bidding  Snudl  For- 
ges get  to  work,  went  round  to  the  other  side 
of  the  great  tree. 

Being  there,  he  took  out  his  pipe,  purely 
from  force  of  habit,  and  stood  with  it  clenched 
in  his  teeth,  listening  to  the  scrape  of  Small 
Porges'  spade. 

Presently  he  heard  a  cry,  a  panting,  breath- 
less cry,  but  full  of  a  joy  unspeakable: 

*'  I've  got  it!  —  Oh,  Uncle  Porges  —  I've 
found  it!  " 

Small  Porges  was  down  upon  his  knees,  pull- 
ing and  tugging  at  a  sack  he  had  partially  un- 
earthed, and  which,  with  Bellew 's  aid,  ho- 
dragged  forth  into  the  moonlight.  In  the 
twinkling  of  an  eye  the  string  was  cut,  and 
plunging  in  a  hand  Small  Porges  brought  up 
a  fistful  of  shining  sovereigns,  and,  among 
them,  a  crumi>led  banknote. 

"  It's  all  right,  Uncle  Porges!  "  he  nodded, 
his  voice  all  of  a  quaver.  '*  It's  all  right,  now, 
—  I've  found  tlie  fortune  I've  prayed  for, — 


268  THE   MONEY   MOON 

gold,  you  know,  an'  banknotes  —  in  a  sack. 
Every tMng  will  be  all  right  again  now. ' '  And, 
while  he  spoke,  he  rose  to  his  feet,  and  lifting 
the  sack  with  an  effort,  swung  it  across  his 
shoulder,  and  set  off  toward  the  house. 

* '  Is  it  heavy.  Shipmate  ?  ' ' 

*'  Awful  heavy!  "  he  panted,  ''  but  I  don't 
mind  that  —  it's  gold,  you  see!  "  But,  as  they 
crossed  the  rose-garden,  Bellew  laid  a  restrain- 
ing hand  upon  his  shoulder. 

'<  Porges,"  said  he,  "  where  is  your  Auntie 
Anthea?  " 

"  In  the  drawing-room,  waiting  for  Mr. 
Grimes." 

''  Then,  come  this  way."  And  turning,  Bel- 
lew  led  Small  Porges  up,  and  along  the 
terrace. 

^'  Now,  my  Porges,"  he  admonished  him, 
*'  when  we  come  to  the  drawing-room  windows, 
—  they're  open,  you  see,  —  I  want  you  to  hide 
with  me  in  the  shadows,  and  wait  until  I  give 
you  the  word  —  ' ' 

^'  Aye,  aye,  Captain!  "  panted  Small  Porges. 

' '  When  I  say  '  heave  ahead.  Shipmate, '  — 
why,  then,  you  will  take  your  treasure  upon 
your  back  and  march  straight  into  the  room  — 
you  understand?  " 

Aye,  aye,  Captain." 


li 


THE   MONEY   MOON  2G9 

*' Wliy,  theu  —  come  on,  and  —  mum's  the 
word." 

Very  cautiously  they  approached  the  long 
French  windows,  and  paused  in  the  shadow  of 
a  great  rose-bush,  near-by.  From  where  he 
stood  Bellew  could  see  Anthea  and  Miss  Pris- 
cilla,  and  between  them,  sprawling  in  an  easy 
chair,  was  Grimes,  while  Adam,  hat  in  hand, 
scowled  in  the  background. 

*'  All  I  can  say  is  —  as  I'm  very  sorry  for  ye, 
Miss  Anthea,"  Grimes  was  saying.  "  Ah! 
that  I  am,  but  glad  as  you've  took  it  so  well,  — 
no  crying  nor  nonsense!  "  Here  he  turne<l  to 
look  at  Miss  Priscilla,  whose  everlasting  sew- 
ing had  fallen  to  her  feet,  and  lay  there  all 
unnoticed,  while  her  tearful  eves  were  fixed 
upon  Anthea,  standing  white-faced  beside  her. 

* '  And  when  —  when  shall  ye  be  ready  to  — 
leave,  to  —  vacate  Dapplemere,  Miss  Anthea?  " 
Grimes  went  on.  '*  Not  as  I  mean  to  'urry 
you,  mind,  —  only  I  should  like  you  to  —  name 
a  day." 

Now,  as  Bellew  watched,  he  saw  Anthea 's 
lips  move,  but  no  sound  came.  Miss  Priscilla 
saw  also,  and  catching  the  nerveless  hand,  drew 
it  to  her  bosom,  and  wept  over  it. 

"  Come!  come!  "  expostulated  Grimes, 
jingling  tlie  money  in  his  pockets.     **  C#me, 


270  THE   MONEY   MOON 

come,  Miss  Anthea,  mam!  —  all  as  I'm  axing 
you  is  —  when  ?    All  as  I  want  yon  to  do  is  —  '  * 

But  here  Adam,  who  had  been  screwing  and 
wringing  at  his  hat,  now  stepped  forward  and, 
tapping  Grimes  upon  the  shoulder,  pointed  to 
the  door; 

''  Mister  Grimes,"  said  he,  ''  Miss  Anthea 's 
told  ye  all  as  you  come  here  to  find  out,  —  she 's 
told  ye  as  she  —  can't  pay,  so  now,  —  s'pose 
you  —  go. ' ' 

''  But  all  I  want  to  know  is  when  she'll  be 
ready  to  move,  and  I  ain't  a  going  till  I  do, — 
so  you  get  out  o'  my  way !  " 

*'  S'pose  you  go!  "  repeated  Adam. 

'*  Get  out  o'  my  way,  —  d'ye  hear?  " 

''  Because,"  Adam  went  on,  "  if  ye  don't  go, 
Mister  Grimes,  the  '  Old  Adam  '  be  arising 
inside  o'  me  to  that  degree  as  I  shall  be  forced 
to  ketch  you  by  the  collar  o'  your  jacket,  and 
■ — heave  you  out,  Mr.  Grimes,  sir,  —  so  s'pose 
you  go." 

Hereupon  Mr.  Grimes  rose,  put  on  his  hat, 
and  muttering  to  himself,  stamped  indignantly 
from  the  room,  and  Adam,  shutting  the  door 
upon  him,  turned  to  Miss  Anthea,  who  stood 
white-lipped  and  dry-eyed,  while  gentle  little 
Miss  Priscilla  fondled  her  listless  hand. 

*'  Don't,  —  don't  look  that  way.  Miss  An- 


THE   MONEY   MOON  271 

thea,"  said  Adam.  "I'd  rayther  see  you  cry, 
than  look  so.  It  be  'ard  to  'ave  to  let  the  old 
place  go,  but —  " 

''  Heave  ahead,  Shipmate!  "  whispered  Bel- 
lew. 

Obedient  to  his  command  Small  Porges,  with 
Lis  burden  upon  his  back,  ran  forward,  and 
stumbled  into  the  room. 

"  It's  all  right,  Auntie  Anthea!  "  he  cried, 
**  I've  got  the  fortune  for  you,  —  I've  found 
the  money  I  prayed  for,  —  here  it  is,  oh!  — 
here  it  is !  " 

The  sack  fell  jingling  to  the  floor,  and,  next 
moment,  he  had  poured  a  heap  of  shining  gold 
and  crunii)led  banknotes  at  Anthea 's  feet. 

For  a  moment  no  one  moved,  then,  with  a 
strange  hoarse  cry,  Adam  had  flung  himself 
down  upon  his  knees,  and  cauglit  up  a  great 
handful  of  the  gold;  then  while  Miss  Priscilla 
sobbed  witli  her  arms  about  Small  Porges,  and 
Anthea  stared  down  at  the  treasure,  wide-eyed, 
and  witli  her  hands  pressed  down  upon  her 
heart,  Adam  gave  a  sudden,  great  laugh,  and 
springing  up,  came  running  out  through  the 
window,  never  spying  Bellew  in  his  haste,  and 
shouting  as  he  ran: 

'*  Grimes!  "  he  roared,  **  Oh!  Grimes,  come 
back  an'  be  paid.    Come  back  —  we've  had  our 


272  THE   MONEY   MOON 

little  joke  wi'  yau,  —  now  come  back  an'  be 
paid!  " 

Then,  at  last,  Anthea's  stony  calm  was 
broken,  her  bosom  heaved  with  tempestuous 
sobs,  and,  next  moment,  she  had  thrown  her- 
self upon  her  knees,  and  had  clasped  her  arms 
about  Small  Porges  and  Aunt  Priscilla,  ming- 
ling kisses  with  her  tears.  As  for  Bellew,  he 
turned  away,  and,  treading  a  familiar  path, 
found  himself  beneath  the  shadow  of  *^  King 
Arthur. ' '  Therefore,  he  sat  down,  and  lighting 
his  pipe,  stared  up  at  the  glory  of  the  full-orbed 
moon. 

''  Happiness,"  said  he,  speaking  his  thought 
aloud,  ''  '  Happiness  shall  come  riding  astride 
the  full  moon !  '    Now  —  I  wonder !  ' ' 


CHAPTER  XXVU 

In  which  is  verified  the  adage  of  the  cup  and 

the  lip. 

Now  as  he  sat  thus,  plunged  in  thought,  he 
heard  the  voice  of  one  who  approached  in- 
toning a  familiar  chant,  or  refrain,  —  the  voice 
was  harsh,  albeit  not  uumusiciil,  and  the  words 
of  the  chant  were  these: 

"  When  I  am  dcatl,  diddle  diddle,  as  well  may  hap, 
[Bury  me  deej),  diddle  diddle,  under  the  tap, 
Under  the  tap,  diddle  diddle,  I  '11  tell  you  —  " 

"  Lord!  "  exclaimed  the  singer,  breaking  off 
suddenly,  ''  be  tliat  you,  Mr.  Belloo,  sir?  " 

**  Yea,  in  good  sooth,  Adam,  the  very  same, 
—  but  you  sing,  Adam?  " 

"Ah!  —  I  sing,  Mr.  Belloo,  sir,  an'  if  you 
ax  me  why,  then  T  tell  you  bec4iuse  I  be  'appy- 
'earted  an'  full  o'  joy,  j'y,  sir.  The  mort- 
age be  paid  off  at  last,  ^fr.  Belloo,  sir,  — 
Miss  Anthea  be  out  o'  debt,  —  free,  sir,—  an* 
all  along  o'  Master  Georgy,  God  bless  him!  " 


274  THE   MONEY  MOON 


ti 


Oh!  "  said  Bellew,  "  —  er  —  that's 
good!  " 

"  Good!  "  exclaimed  Adam,  *'  Ah,  Mr.  Bel- 
loo  sir!  it  be  more  than  good,  —  it's  saved 
Miss  Antliea's  home  for  her,  and  —  betwixt 
you  an'  me,  sir,  —  I  think  it's  saved  her  too. 
An'  it  be  all  along  o'  that  Master  Georgy! 
Lord  sir!  many's  the  time  as  I've  watched 
that  theer  blessed  b'y  a-seeldn',  an'  a-searchin', 
a  poldn'  an'  a  pryin'  round  the  place  a-lookin' 
for  'is  fortun',  —  but.  Lord  bless  my  eyes  an' 
limbs,  sir!  —  I  never  thought  as  he'd  find 
nothin'." 

"  Why,  of  course  not,  Adam." 

''  Ah!  —  but  that's  jest  where  I  were  mis- 
took, Mr.  Belloo,  sir, — because  'e  did." 

"  Did  what,  Adam?  " 

"  Found  the  fortun'  as  he  were  always  a- 
lookin'  for,  —  a  sack  o'  golden  soverings,  sir, 
an'  bank-notes,  Mr.  Belloo,  sir,  —  bushels  on 
'em;  enough  —  ah!  more  'n  enough  to  pay  off 
that  mortgage,  and  to  send  that  theer  old 
Grimes  about  his  business,  —  an'  away  from 
Dapplemere  for  good  an'  all,  sir." 

''  So  Grimes  is  really  paid  off,  then,  is  he, 
Adam?  " 

*'  I  done  it  myself,  sir,  —  wi'  these  here  two 
'ands,  —  Three     thousand    pound    I    counted 


THE   MONEY   MOOX  275 

over  to  him,  an'  five  hundred  more  —  in  banlv- 
notes,  sir,  while  Miss  Authea  sat  by  like  one 
in  a  dream.  Altogether  there  were  five  thou- 
sand pound  as  that  blessed  b'y  dug  up  out  o' 
the  orchard  —  done  up  all  in  a  pertater  sack, 
under  this  very  i-dentical  tree  as  you'm  a  set- 
tin'  under  Mr.  Belloo  sir.  E'cod,  I  be  half 
minded  to  take  a  shovel  and  have  a  try  at  for- 
tun'-huntin'  myself,  —  only  there  ain't  much 
chance  o'  findin'  another,  hereabouts;  besides 
—  tliat  b'y  prayed  for  that  fortun',  ah!  long, 
an'  hard  he  prayed,  ^Ir.  Belloo  sir,  an'  —  'twixt 
you  an'  me,  sir,  I  ain't  been  much  of  a  pray-er 
myself  since  my  old  mother  died.  Anyhow,  the 
mortgage  be  paid  off,  sir,  Miss  Authea 's  free, 
an'  'tis  jy'ful,  an'  'appy-'earted  I  be  this  night. 
Prudence  an'  me '11  be  gettin'  married  soon 
now,  —  an'  when  I  think  of  her  cookin'  —  Lord, 
Mr.  Belloo  sir !  —  All  as  I  say  is  God  bless 
Master  Georgj-!  Good-night,  sir!  an'  may 
your  dreams  be  as  'appy  as  mine,  —  always 
supposin'  I  do  dream,  —  which  is  seldom. 
Good-niglit,  sir!  " 

Long  after  Adam's  cheery  whistle  had  died 
away,  Bellew  sat,  pipe  in  mouth,  staring  up  at 
the  moon.  At  length,  however,  he  rose,  and 
turned  liis  steps  towards  the  house. 

"Mr.  Bellew!  " 


276  THE   MONEY   MOON 

He  started,  and  turning,  saw  Anthea  stand- 
ing amid  her  roses.  For  a  moment  they  looked 
upon  each  other  in  silence,  as  though  each 
dreaded  to  speak,  then  suddenly,  she  turned, 
and  broke  a  great  rose  from  its  stem,  and  stood 
twisting  it  between  her  fingers. 

"  Why  did  you  —  do  it?  "  she  asked. 

*'  Do  it?  "  he  repeated. 

'  *  I  mean  the  —  fortune.  Georgy  told  me  — 
how  you  —  helped  him  to  find  it,  and  I  —  know 
how  it  came  there,  of  course.  "Why  did  you  — 
do  it?  " 

"  You  didn't  tell  him  —  how  it  came  there?  " 
asked  Bellew  anxiously. 

'*  No,"  she  answered,  *'  I  think  it  would 
break  his  heart  —  if  he  knew. ' ' 

' '  And  I  think  it  would  have  broken  his  heart 
if  he  had  never  found  it,"  said  Bellew,  "  and 
I  couldn't  let  that  happen,  could  I?  "  Anthea 
did  not  answer,  and  he  saw  that  her  eyes  were 
very  bright  in  the  shadow  of  her  lashes  though 
she  kept  them  lowered  to  the  rose  in  her  fin- 
gers. 

**  Anthea  I  "  said  he,  suddenly,  and  reached 
out  his  hand  to  her.  But  she  started  and  drew 
from  his  touch. 

**  Don't!"  she  said,  speaking  almost  in  a 
whisper,  **  don't  touch  me.     Oh!   I  know  you 


THE   MONEY   MOON  277 

have  paid  off  the  mortgage  —  you  have  bought 
back  my  home  for  me  as  you  bought  back  my 
furniture!  Why?  —  why?  I  was  nothing  to 
you,  or  you  to  me,  —  why  have  you  laid  me 
under  this  obligation,  —  you  know  I  can  never 
hope  to  return  your  money  —  oh !  why,  —  why 
did  you  do  it?  " 

*'  Bec^iuse  I  —  love  you,  ^Vnthea,  have  loved 
you  from  the  first.  Because  everj'thing  I  pos- 
sess in  this  world  is  yours  —  even  as  I  am." 

**  You  forget!  "  she  broke  in  proudly,  "  you 
forget —  " 

**  Everything  but  my  love  for  you,  Anthea, 

—  everything  but  that  I  want  3'ou  for  my  wife. 
I'm  not  much  of  a  fellow,  I  know,  but  —  oould 
you  learn  to  —  love  me  enough  to  —  marry  me 

—  some  day,  Anthea?  " 

"Would  you  have  —  dared  to  say  this  to 
me  —  before  to-night?  —  before  your  money 
had  bought  back  the  roof  over  my  head?  Oh! 
haven't  I  been  humiliated  enough?  You  —  you 
have  taken  from  mo  the  only  thing  I  had  left 

—  my  indei)endence,  —  stolen  it  from  me !  Oh ! 
hadn't  I  been  shamed  enough?  " 

Now,  as  she  spoke,  she  saw  tliat  his  eyes 
were  grown  suddenly  big  and  fierce,  and,  in  tliat 
moment,  her  hands  were  caught  in  his  power- 
ful clasp. 


278  THE   MONEY   MOON 


(< 


Let  me  go!  "  she  cried. 

''  No,"  said  he,  shaking  his  head,  **  not  until 
you  tell  me  if  you  —  love  me.    Speak,  Anthea. ' ' 

"  Loose  my  hands!  "  She  threw  up  her 
head  proudly,  and  her  eyes  gleamed,  and  her 
cheeks  flamed  with  sudden  anger.  "  Loose 
me!  "  she  repeated.  But  Bellew  only  shook 
his  head,  and  his  chin  seemed  rather  more 
prominent  than  usual,  as  he  answered: 

' '  Tell  me  that  you  love  me,  or  that  you  hate 
me  —  whichever  it  is,  but,  until  you  do —  " 

''  You  —  hurt  me!  "  said  she,  and  then,  as 
his  fingers  relaxed,  —  with  a  sudden  passionate 
cry,  she  had  broken  free ;  but,  even  so,  he  had 
caught  and  swept  her  up  in  his  arms,  and  held 
her  close  against  his  breast.  And  now,  feeling 
the  hopelessness  of  further  struggle,  she  lay 
passive,  while  her  eyes  flamed  up  into  his,  and 
his  eyes  looked  down  into  her's.  Her  long, 
thick  hair  had  come  loose,  and  now  with  a  sud- 
den, quick  gesture,  she  drew  it  across  her  face, 
veiling  it  from  him;  wherefore,  he  stooped  his 
head  above  those  lustrous  tresses. 

'  *  Anthea !  "  he  murmured,  and  the  masterful 
voice  was  strangely  hesitating,  and  the  master- 
ful arms  about  her  were  wonderfully  gentle, 
**  Anthea  —  do  you  —  love  me?"  Lower  he 
bent,  and  lower,  until  his  lips  touched  her  hair, 


THE   MONEY   MOON  279 

until  beneath  that  fragrant  veil,  his  mouth 
sought,  and  found,  her's;  and,  in  that  breath- 
less moment,  he  felt  them  quiver  responsive  to 
his  c-aress.  And  then,  he  had  set  her  down> 
she  "was  free,  and  he  was  looking  at  her  with 
a  new-found  radiance  in  his  eyes. 

"Anthea!"  he  said,  wonderingly,  "why 
then  —  you  do  —  ?  "  But,  as  he  spoke,  she  hid 
her  face  in  her  hands. 

'*  Anthea!  "  he  repeated. 

**  OhI  "  she  whispered,  "I  —  hate  you!  — 
despise  you !  Oh !  you  shall  be  paid  back,  — 
every  penny,  —  every  fartliing,  and  —  very 
soon!     Next  week  —  I  marry  Mr.  Cassilis!" 

And  so,  she  turned,  and  fled  away,  and  left 
him  standing  there  amid  the  roses. 


CHAPTER   XXVni 

Which  tells  how  Bellew  left  Dapplemere  in  the 

dawn 

Far  in  the  East  a  grey  streak  marked  the  ad- 
vent of  another  day,  and  upon  all  things  was 
a  solemn  hush,  a  great,  and  awful  stillness  that 
was  like  the  stillness  of  Death.  The  Earth 
was  a  place  of  gloom,  and  mist,  where  spectral 
shadows  writhed,  and  twisted,  and  flitted  under 
a  frowning  heaven,  and  out  of  the  gloom  there 
came  a  breath,  sharp,  and  damp,  and  exceed- 
ing chill. 

Therefore,  as  Bellew  gazed  down  from  the 
frowning  Heaven  to  the  gloom  of  Earth,  be- 
low, with  its  ever-moving,  misty  shapes,  he 
shivered  involuntarily. 

In  another  hour  it  would  be  day,  and  with 
the  day,  the  gates  of  Arcadia  would  open  for 
his  departure,  and  he  must  go  forth  to  become 
once  more  a  wanderer,  going  up  and  down,  and 
to  and  fro  in  the  world  until  his  course  was  run. 

And  yet  it  was  worth  having  lived  for,  this 
one  golden  month,  and  in  all  his  wanderings 
needs  must  he  carry  with  him  the  memory  of 


THE    MONEY   MOON  2S1 

Her  who  bad  taught  him  how  deep  and  higli, 
how  wide  and  inlinitely  far-reaching  that  thing 
called  "  Love  "  may  really  be. 

And  —  Forges!  —  dear,  quaint,  Small  Por- 
ges!  where  under  heaven  could  he  ever  lind 
again  such  utter  faith,  such  pure  unaffected 
loyalty  and  devotion  as  tlirobbed  within  that 
small,  warm  heart!  How  could  he  ever  bid 
"  Good-bye  "  to  loving,  eager,  little  Small 
Forges  T 

And  then  there  was  Miss  Friscilla,  and  the 
strong,  gentle  Sergeant,  and  Peterday,  and 
sturdy  Adam,  and  Prudence,  and  the  rosy- 
cheeked  maids.  How  well  they  all  suited  this 
wonderful  Arcadia!  Yes,  indeed  he,  and  he 
only,  had  been  out  of  place,  and  so  —  he  must 
go  —  back  to  the  cvery-day,  matter-of-fact 
world,  but  how  could  he  ever  say  "  Good-bye  '* 
to  faithful,  loving  Small  Forges? 

Far  in  the  East  the  grey  streak  had  bright- 
ened, and  broadened,  and  was  already  tinged 
with  a  faint  jiink  that  deepened,  and  deepened, 
as  he  watched.  Bellew  had  seen  the  glory  of 
many  a  sun-rise  in  divers  wild  places  of  the 
Earth,  and,  hitherto,  had  always  felt  deep 
within  him,  the  responsive  tlirill,  the  exhilara- 
tion of  liope  new  ])orn,  and  joyful  expectation 
of  the  great,  unknown  Future.     But  now,  ho 


282  THE   MONEY   MOOX 

"watched  the  varying  hues  of  pink,  and  scarlet, 
and  saffron,  and  gold,  with  gloomy  brow,  and 
sombre  eyes. 

Now  presently,  the  Black-bird  who  lived  in 
the  apple-tree  beneath  his  window,  (the  tree  of 
the  inquisitive  turn  of  mind),  this  Black-bird 
fellow,  opening  a  drowsy  eye,  must  needs  give 
vent  to  a  croak,  very  hoarse  and  feeble;  then, 
(apparently  having  yawned  prodigiously  and 
stretched  himself,  wing,  and  leg),  he  tried  a 
couple  of  notes,  —  in  a  hesitating,  tentative 
sort  of  fashion,  shook  himself,  —  repeated  the 
two  notes,  —  tried  three,  found  them  mellower, 
and  more  what  the  waiting  world  very  justly 
expected  of  him;  grew  more  confident;  tried 
four ;  tried  five,  —  grew  perfectly  assured,  and 
so  burst  forth  into  the  full,  golden  melody  of 
his  morning  song. 

Then  Bellew,  leaning  out  from  his  casement, 
as  the  first  bright  beams  of  the  rising  sun 
gilded  the  top-most  leaves  of  the  tree,  thus 
apostrophised  the  unseen  singer: 

*'  I  suppose  you  will  be  piping  away  down 
in  your  tree  there,  old  fellow,  long  after 
Arcadia  has  faded  out  of  my  life.  Well,  it 
will  be  only  natural,  and  perfectly  right,  of 
course,  —  She  will  be  here,  and  may,  perhaps, 
stop  to  listen  to  you.     Now  if,  somehow,  you 


THE   MONEY   MOON  283 

could  manage  to  compose  for  me  a  Song  of 
Memory,  some  evening  when  I'm  gone,  —  some 
evening  when  She  happens  to  be  sitting  idle, 
and  watching  the  moon  rise  over  the  upland 
yonder;  if,  at  such  a  time,  you  could  just  man- 
age to  remind  her  of  —  me,  why  —  I'd  thank 
you.     And  so,  —  Good-bye,  old  fellow!" 

Saying  which,  Bellew  turned  from  the  win- 
dow, and  took  up  a  certain  bulging,  be-strapped 
portmanteau,  while  the  Black-bird,  (having, 
evidently,  hearkened  to  his  request  with  much 
grave  attention),  fell  a  singing  more  gloriously 
than  ever. 

Meanwhile,  Bellew  descended  the  great,  wide 
stair,  soft  of  foot,  and  cautious  of  step,  yet 
pausing  once  to  look  towards  a  certain  closed 
door,  and  so,  presently  let  himself  quietly  out 
into  the  dawn.  The  dew  sparkled  in  the  grass, 
it  hung  in  glittering  jewels  from  every  leaf, 
and  twig,  while,  now  and  then,  a  shining  drop 
would  fall  upon  him  as  he  passed,  like  a  great 
tear. 

Now,  as  he  reached  the  orchard,  up  rose  the 
sun  in  all  his  majesty  filling  the  world  with 
the  splendour  of  his  coming,  —  before  whose 
kindly  beams  the  skulking  mists  and  shadows 
shrank  afTrightcd,  and  fled  utterly  away. 

This    morning,    "  King   Artliur  "    wore   his 


284  THE   MONEY   MOON 

grandest  robes  of  state,  for  his  mantle  of  greeix 
was  thick  sewn  with  a  myriad  flaming  gems; 
very  different  he  looked  from  that  dark, 
shrouded  giant  who  had  so  lately  been  Con- 
spirator No.  Two.  Yet,  perhaps  for  this  very 
reason,  Bellew  paused  to  lay  a  hand  upon  his 
mighty,  rugged  bole,  and,  doing  so,  turned  and 
looked  back  at  the  House  of  Dapplemere. 

And  truly  never  had  the  old  house  seemed 
so  beautiful,  so  quaint,  and  peaceful  as  now. 
It's  every  stone  and  beam  had  become  familiar 
and,  as  he  looked,  seemed  to  find  an  individ- 
uality of  its  own,  the  very  lattices  seemed  to 
look  back  at  him,  like  so  many  wistful  eyes. 

Therefore  George  Bellew,  American  Citizen, 
millionaire,  traveller,  explorer,  and  —  LOVER, 
sighed  as  he  turned  away,  —  sighed  as  he 
strode  on  through  the  green  and  golden  morn- 
ing, and  resolutely  —  looked  back  no  more. 


CHAPTER   XXIX 

Of  the  moon's  message  to  Synall  Forges,  and 
how  he  told  it  to  Belleiv — in  a  whisper 

Bellew  walked  on  at  a  good  pace  with  his 
back  turned  resohitelv  towards  the  House  of 
Dapplemere,  and  thus,  as  he  swung  into  that 
narrow,  grassy  hme  that  wound  away  between 
trees,  he  was  mucli  surprised  to  hear  a  distant 
hail.  Facing  sharp  about  he  espied  a  diminu- 
tive figure  whose  small  legs  trotted  very  fast, 
and  whose  small  fist  waved  a  weather-beaten 
cap. 

Bellew's  first  impulse  was  to  turn,  and  run. 
But  Bellew  rarely  acted  on  impulse;  therefore, 
he  set  down  the  bulging  ix)rtmanteau,  seated 
himself  upon  it,  and  taking  out  pipe  and  to- 
bacco, waited  for  his  pursuer  to  come 
up. 

"  Oh  Uncle  Porgos!  "  panted  a  voice,  **  you 
did  walk  so  awful  fast,  an'  I  called,  an'  called, 
but  you  never  heard.  An'  now,  please, — 
where  are  you  going?  " 

"  Going,"  said  Bellew,  searching  through  his 
pockets  for  a  match,  **  going,  my  Porges,  why 


286  THE   MONEY   MOON 

—  er  —  for  a  stroll,  to  be  sure,  —  just  a  walk 
before  breakfast,  you  know." 

''  But  then  —  why  have  you  brought  your 
bag?  " 

''  Bag!  "  repeated  Bellew,  stooping  down  to 
look  at  it,  ' '  why  —  so  —  I  have !  ' ' 

''Please  —  why?"  persisted  Small  Porges, 
suddenly  anxious.  ''  Why  did  you  —  bring 
it?  " 

' '  Well,  I  expect  it  was  to  —  er  —  to  bear 
me  company.  But  how  is  it  you  are  out  so  very 
early,  my  Porges?  " 

''  Why,  I  couldn't  sleep,  last  night,  you  know, 
'cause  I  kept  on  thinking,  and  thinking  'bout 
the  fortune.  So  I  got  up  —  in  the  middle  of 
the  night,  an'  dressed  myself,  an'  sat  in  the 
big  chair  by  the  window,  an'  looked  at  the 
Money  Moon.  An'  I  stared  at  it,  an'  stared 
at  it  till  a  wonderful  thing  happened,  —  an* 
what  do  you  s'pose?  " 

*'  I  don't  know." 

' '  Well,  —  all  at  once,  while  I  stared  up  at 
it,  the  moon  changed  itself  into  a  great,  big 
face;  but  I  didn't  mind  a  bit,  'cause  it  was 
a  very  nice  sort  of  face,  —  rather  like  a  gnome 's 
face,  only  without  the  beard,  you  know.  An* 
while  I  looked  at  it,  it  talked  to  me,  an'  it  told 
me  a  lot  of  things,  —  an'  that's  how  I  know 


THE   MONEY   MOON  2S7 

that  you  are  —  going  away,  'cause  you  are,  you 
know,  —  aren't  youT  " 

"  A\Tiy,  my  Porges,"  said  Bellew,  fumbling 
with  his  pipe,  "  why  Sliipmate,  I  —  since  you 
ask  me  —  1  am." 

*'  Yes,  I  was  'fraid  the  moon  was  right," 
said  Small  Porges,  and  turned  away.  But 
Bellew  had  seen  the  stricken  look  in  his  eyes, 
therefore  he  took  Small  Porges  in  the  circle 
of  his  big  arm,  and  holding  him  thus,  explained 
to  him  how  that  in  this  great  world  each 
of  us  must  walk  his  appointed  way,  and  that 
there  must,  and  always  will  be,  partings,  but 
that  also  there  must  and  always  shall  be,  meet- 
ings: 

**  And  so,  my  Porges,  if  we  have  to  say 
*  Good-bye  '  now,  —  the  sooner  we  shall  meet 
again,  —  some  day  —  somewhere. ' ' 

But  Small  Porges  only  sighed,  and  shook  his 
head  in  hopeless  dejection. 

**  Does  —  she  —  know  you're  going,  —  I 
mean  my  Auntie  Anthea?  " 

**  Oh  yes,  she  knows,  Porges." 

"  Then  I  s'pose  that's  why  she  was  crying 
80,   in   the   night —  " 

"  Cr>'ing?  " 

"Yes;  —  she's  cried  an  awful  lot  lately, 
hasn't   she?     Last   night,  —  when   I   woke   up, 


288  THE   MONEY   MOON 

you  know,  an'  couldn't  sleep,  I  went  into  her 
room,  an'  she  was  crying  —  with  her  face 
hidden  in  the  pillow,  an'  her  hair  all  about 
her—" 

''  Crying!  " 

"Yes;  an'  she  said  she  wished  she  was 
dead.  So  then,  a  course,  I  tried  to  comfort  her, 
you  know.  An'  she  said  'I'm  a  dreadful 
failure,  Georgy  dear,  with  the  farm,  an'  every- 
thing else.  I've  tried  to  be  a  father  and  mother 
to  you,  an'  I've  failed  in  that  too,  —  so  now, 
I'm  going  to  give  you  a  real  father,'  —  an'  she 
told  me  she  was  going  to  marry  —  Mr.  Cassilis. 
But  I  said  '  No  ' —  'cause  I'd  'ranged  for  her 
to  marry  you  an'  live  happy  ever  after.  But 
she  got  awful  angry  again  an'  said  she'd  never 
marry  you  if  you  were  the  last  man  in  the 
world —  'cause  she  'spised  you  so —  " 

' '  And  that  would  seem  to  —  settle  it !  " 
nodded  Bellew  gloomily,  "  so  it's  '  Good-bye  ' 
my  Forges!  We  may  as  well  shake  hands 
now,  and  get  it  over,"  and  Bellew  rose  from 
the  portmanteau,  and  sighing,  held  out  his 
hand. 

' '  Oh !  —  but  wait  a  minute !  ' '  cried  Small 
Porges  eagerly,  "  I  haven't  told  you  what  the 
Moon  said  to  me,  last  night —  " 

*'Ah!  —  to    be    sure,    we    were    forgetting 


THE   MONEY   MOON  289 

that!  "  said  Bellew  with  au  absent  look,  and 
a  trifle  wearily. 

**  AMiy  then  —  please  sit  down  again,  so  I 
can  speak  into  your  ear,  'cause  what  the  ^loon 
told  me  to  tell  you  was  a  secret,  you  know." 

So,  perforce,  Bellew  re-seated  himself  u})on 
his  portmanteau,  and  drawing  Small  Porges 
close,  bent  his  head  down  to  the  anxious  little 
face;  and  so,  Small  Porges  told  him  exactly 
what  the  ^loon  had  said.  And  the  Moon's 
message,  (whatever  it  was),  seemed  to  be  very 
short,  and  concise,  (as  all  really  important 
messages  should  be) ;  but  these  few  words  had 
a  wondrous,  and  magical  effect  upon  George 
Bellew.  For  a  moment  he  stared  wide-eyed 
at  Small  Porges  like  one  awaking  from  a  dream, 
then  the  gloom  vanished  from  his  brow,  and 
he  sprang  to  his  feet.  And,  being  upon  his 
feet,  he  smote  his  clenched  fist  down  into  the 
palm  of  his  hand  with  a  resounding  smack. 

"  By  lieaven!  "  he  exclaimed,  and  took  a 
turn  to  and  fro  across  the  width  of  the  lane, 
and  seeing  Small  Porges  watching  him,  caught 
him  suddenly  up  in  his  arms,  and  hugged  him. 

'*  And  tlie  moon  will  be  at  the  full,  to- 
night! "  said  ho.  Tlioroaftor  he  sat  him  down 
upon  his  portmanteau  again,  with  Small  Porges 
upon  his  knee,  and  they  talked  confidentially 


290  THE   MONEY   MOON 

together  with  their  heads  very  close  together 
and  in  muffled  tones. 

When,  at  last,  Bellew  rose,  his  eyes  were 
bright  and  eager,  and  his  square  chin,  promi- 
nent, and  grimly  resolute. 

*'  So  —  you  quite  understand,  my  Porges?  " 

"  Yes,  yes  —  Oh  I  understand!  " 

*'  Where  the  little  bridge  spans  the  brook, 
—  the  trees  are  thicker,  there.'* 

'*  Aye  aye,  Captain!  " 

' '  Then  —  fare  thee  well.  Shipmate !  Good- 
bye, my  Porges,  —  and  remember!  '* 

So  they  clasped  hands,  very  solemnly.  Big 
Porges,  and  Small  Porges,  and  turned  each 
his  appointed  way,  the  one  up,  the  other  down, 
the  lane.  But  lo !  as  they  went  Small  Porges ' 
tears  were  banished  quite;  and  Bellew  strode 
upon  his  way,  his  head  held  high,  his  shoulders 
squared,  like  one  in  whom  Hope  has  been  new- 
born. 


CHAPTER   XXX 

How  Anthea  gave  her  promise 

'  *  And  so  —  be  —  has  really  gone !  ' '  Miss  Pris- 
cilla  sighed  as  she  spoke,  and  looked  up  from 
her  needle-work  to  watch  Anthea  who  sat 
biting  her  pen,  and  frowning  down  at  the  blank 
sheet  of  paper  before  her.  "  And  so,  he  is 
—  really  —  gone  T  ' ' 

♦*  Who  — Mr.  Bellew?     Oh  yesi  " 

"  lie  went  —  very  early!  " 

*'  Yes." 

'*  And  —  without  any  breakfast!  " 

**  That  was  —  his  own  fault!  "  said  Anthea. 

"  And  without  even  —  saying  '  Good-bye  '!  " 

**  Perhaps  he  was  in  a  hurry,"  Anthea  sug- 
gested. 

**  Oh  dear  me,  no  my  dear!  I  don't  believe 
Mr.  Bellew  was  ever  in  a  hurry  in  all  his 
life." 

**  No,"  sai<l  Anthea,  giving  her  pen  a  vicious 
bite,  **  I  don't  believe  he  ever  was;  he  is  al- 
ways so  —  hatefully  placid,  and  deliberate!" 
and  here,  she  bit  her  pen  again. 

*'  Eh,  ray  dear?  "  exclaimed  Miss  Priscilla, 


292  THE   MONEY   MOON 

pausing  with  her  needle  in  mid-air,  *'  did  you 
say  — hatefully?  " 
''  Yes." 
*' Anthea!  " 
I  —  hate  him,  Aunt  Priscilla!  *' 
Eh?  — My  dear!  " 
That  was  why  I  —  sent  him  away." 


a 
li 

*'  You  —  sent  him  away?  " 
**  Yes." 


But  —  Anthea  —  why  1  ' ' 

' '  Oh  Aunt  Priscilla !  —  surely  you  never  — 
believed  in  the  —  fortune  ?  Surely  you  guessed 
it  was — his  money  that  paid  back  the  mort- 
gage,—  didn't  you,  Aunt,  —  didn't  you!  " 

*  *  Well,  my  dear  — .  But  then  —  he  did  it 
so  very  —  tactfully,  and  —  and  —  I  had  hoped, 
my  dear  that  —  ' ' 

* '  That  I  should  —  marry  him,  and  settle 
the  obligation  that  way,  perhaps?  " 

''  Well,  yes  my  dear,  I  did  hope  so —  " 

**  Oh!  —  I'm  going  to  marry —  " 

''  Then  why  did  you  send —  " 

* '  I  'm  going  to  marry  Mr.  Cassilis  —  when- 
ever he  pleases!  " 

*'  Anthea!  "  The  word  was  a  cry,  and  her 
needle- work  slipped  from  Miss  Priscilla 's 
nerveless  fingers. 

*'  He  asked  me  to  write  and  tell  him  if  ever 
I  changed  my  mind 


j> 


THE   MONEY   MOON  20a 

''Oh  —  my  dear!  my  dear!"  cried  Miss 
Priscilla  reachiug  out  imploring  hands,  "  you 
never  mean  it,  —  you  are  all  distraught  to-day 
—  tired,  and  worn  out  with  worry,  and  loss  of 
sleep,  —  wait!  " 

''Wait!"  repeated  Anthea  bitterly,  "for 
what?  " 

* '  To  —  marry  —  him !  0  ^Vnthea !  you  never 
mean  it  ?     Think,  —  think  what  you  are  doing." 

**  I  thought  of  it  all  last  night,  Aunt  Pris- 
cilla, and  all  this  morning,  and  —  I  have  made 
up  my  mind." 

**  You  mean  to  write — ?  " 

"Yes." 

"  To  tell  Mr.  Cassilis  that  you  will  —  marry 
liimt  " 

"  Yes." 

But  now  Miss  Priscilla  rose,  and,  next  mo- 
ment, was  kneeling  beside  Anthea 's  chair. 

"  Oh  my  dear!  "  she  pleaded,  **  you  that  I 
love  like  my  own  flesh  and  blood,  —  don't!  Oh 
Anthea!  don't  do  what  can  never  be  undone. 
Don't  give  your  youth  and  beauty  to  one  who 
can  never  —  never  make  you  happy,  —  Oh 
Anthea  —  !  " 

"  Dear  Aunt  Priscilla,  I  would  rather  marry 
one  I  don't  love  than  have  to  live  beliolden  all 
my  days  to  a  man  that  I  —  liato!  "     Now,  as 


294  THE   MONEY   MOON 

she  spoke,  thougli  her  embrace  was  as  ready, 
and  her  hands  as  gentle  as  ever,  yet  Miss  Pris- 
cilla  saw  that  her  proud  face  was  set,  and  stern. 
So,  she  presently  rose,  sighing,  and  taking  her 
little  crutch  stick,  tapped  dolefully  away,  and 
left  Anthea  to  write  her  letter. 

And  now,  hesitating  no  more,  Anthea  took 
up  her  pen,  and  wrote,  —  surely  a  very  short 
missive  for  a  love-letter.  And,  when  she  had 
folded,  and  sealed  it,  she  tossed  it  aside,  and 
laying  her  arms  upon  the  table,  hid  her  face, 
with  a  long,  shuddering  sigh. 

In  a  little  while,  she  rose,  and  taking  up 
the  letter,  went  out  to  find  Adam;  but  re- 
membering that  he  had  gone  to  Cranbrook  with 
Small  Porges,  she  paused  irresolute,  and  then 
turned  her  steps  toward  the  orchard.  Hearing 
voices,  she  stopped  again,  and  glancing  about, 
espied  the  Sergeant,  and  Miss  Priscilla.  She 
had  given  both  her  hands  into  the  Sergeant's 
one,  great,  solitary  fist,  and  he  was  looking 
down  at  her,  and  she  was  looking  up  at  him, 
and  upon  the  face  of  each,  was  a  great  and 
shining  joy. 

And,  seeing  all  this,  Anthea  felt  herself  very 
lonely  all  at  once,  and,  turning  aside,  saw  all 
things  through  a  blurr  of  sudden  tears.  She 
was  possessed,  also,  of  a  sudden,  fierce  loath- 


THE   MONEY   MOON  295 

ing  of  the  future,  a  horror  because  of  the  prom- 
ise her  letter  contained.  Nevertheless  she  was 
firm,  and  resolute  on  her  course  because  of 
the  pride  that  burned  within  her. 

So  thus  it  was  that  as  the  Sergeant  pres- 
ently came  striding  along  on  his  homeward 
way,  he  was  suddenly  aware  of  Miss  Anthea 
standing  before  him;  whereupon  he  halted,  and 
removing  his  hat,  wished  her  a  *'  Good-after- 
noon! " 

**  Sergeant,"  said  she,  *'  will  you  do  some- 
thing for  me?  " 

**  Anything  you  ask  me.  Miss  Anthea,  mam, 
—  ever  and  always." 

"I  want  you  to  take  this  letter  to  —  Mr. 
Cassilis,  —  will  you?  " 

Tbe  Sergeant  hesitated  unwontedly,  turning 
his  hat  about  and  about  in  his  hand,  finally  he 
put  it  on,  out  of  the  way. 
•♦  AVill  you,  Sergeant?  " 
'*  Since  you  ask  me  —  Miss  Anthea  mam;    - 
I  will." 

'*  Give  it  into  his  own  hand." 
**  Miss  Anthea  mam  —  I  will." 
"  Thank  you!  —  here  it  is,  Sergeant."     And 
BO  she  turned,  and  was  gone,  leaving  the  Ser- 
geant staring  down  at  the  letter  in  his  hand, 
and  shaking  his  head  over  it. 


296  THE   MONEY   MOON 

Antkea  walked  on  hastily,  never  looking  be- 
hind, and  so,  coming  back  to  the  house,  threw 
herself  down  by  the  open  window,  and  stared 
out  with  unseeing  eyes  at  the  roses  nodding 
slumberous  heads  in  the  gentle  breeze. 

So  the  irrevocable  step  was  taken!  She  had 
given  her  promise  to  marry  Cassilis  whenever 
he  would,  and  must  abide  by  it !  Too  late  now, 
^ny  hope  of  retreat,  she  had  deliberately  chosen 
her  course,  and  must  follow  it  —  to  the  end. 

*'  Begging  your  pardon.  Miss  Anthea 
mam —  !  " 

She  started,  and  glancing  round,  espied 
Adam. 

' '  Oh !  —  you  startled  me,,  Adam,  —  what  is 
it?  " 

"  Begging  your  pardon.  Miss  Anthea,  but  is 
it  true  as  Mr.  Belloo  be  gone  away  —  for 
good?  " 

'^  Yes,  Adam.'' 

"  Why  then  all  I  can  say  is — as  I'm  sorry,  — 
ah!  mortal  sorry  I  be,  an'  my  'eart,  mam,  my 
'eart  likewise  gloomy." 

Were  you  so  —  fond  of  him,  Adam?  " 
Well,    Miss   Anthea,  —  considering   as   he 
were  —  the    best,    good-naturedest,    properest 
kind  o'  gentleman  as  ever  was;    when  I  tell 
you  as  over  an'  above  all  this,  he  could  use 


THE   MONEY   MOON  297 

his  fists  better  than  any  man  as  ever  I  see, 

—  hmi  having  knocked  me  into  a  dry  ditch, 
though,  to  be  sure  I  likewise  drawed  his  claret, 

—  begging  your  pardon,  I'm  sure,  Miss  ^Vn- 
thea;  all  of  which  happened  on  account  o' 
me  finding  him  a-sleeping  in  your  'ay,  mam ;  — 
when  I  tell  you  furthermore,  as  he  treated 
me  ever  as  a  man,  an'  wern't  noways  above 
shaking  my  'and,  or  smoking  a  pipe  wi'  me  — 
sociable  like;  when  I  tell  you  as  he  were  the 
finest  gentleman,  and  properest  man  as  ever 
I  knowed,  or  heard  tell  on,  —  why,  I  think  as 
the  word  *  fond  '  be  about  the  size  of  it.  Miss 
Anthea  mam!  "  saying  which,  Adam  nodded 
several  times,  and  bestowed  an  emphatic  back- 
hande<l  knock  to  the  crown  of  his  hat. 

"  You  used  to  sit  together  very  often  — 
under  the  big  apple  tree,  didn't  you,  Adam?  " 

"Ah!  —  many  an'  many  a  night,  Miss 
Anthea." 

"Did  he  —  ever  tell  you  —  much  of  his  — 
life,  Adam?  " 

"  WHiy  yes,  Miss  Anthea,  —  told  me  sumraat 
about  his  travels,  told  me  as  he'd  shot  lions, 
an'  tigers  —  away  out  in  India,  an'  Africa." 

"  Did  he  ever  mention — " 

"  ^^'ell,  Miss  Anthea?  "  said  he  enquiringly, 
seeing  she  liad  paused. 


298  THE   MONEY  MOON 

*  *  Did  lie  ever  speak  of  —  the  —  lady  he  is 
going  to  marry?  " 

**  Lady?  "  repeated  Adam,  giving  a  sudden 
twist  to  his  hat. 

**  Yes,  —  the  lady  —  who  lives  in  London?  " 

**  No,  Miss  Anthea,"  answered  Adam,  screw- 
ing his  hat  tighter,  and  tighter. 

*'  Why  —  what  do  you  mean?  *' 

*■  *  I  mean  —  as  there  never  was  no  lady,  Miss 
Anthea,  —  neither  up  to  Lonnon,  nor  nowhere 's 
else,  as  I  ever  heard  on." 

*  *  But  —  oh  Adam !  —  you  —  told  me  —  ' ' 

*  *  Ah !  —  for  sure  I  told  ye,  but  it  were  a  lie. 
Miss  Anthea,  —  leastways,  it  weren't  the  truth. 
Ye  see,  I  were  afraid  as  you'd  refuse  to  take 
the  money  for  the  furnitur'  unless  I  made  ye 
believe  as  he  wanted  it  uncommon  bad.  So  I 
up  an'  told  ye  as  he'd  bought  it  all  on  account 
o'  him  being  matrimonially  took  wi'  a  young 
lady  up  to  Lonnon  —  ' ' 

* '  And  then  —  you  went  to  —  him,  and 
warned  him  —  told  him  of  the  story  you  had 
invented?  " 

* '  I  did.  Miss  Anthea ;  at  first,  I  thought  as 
he  were  going  to  up  an'  give  me  one  for  my- 
self, but,  arterwards  he  took  it  very  quiet,  an' 
told  me  as  I'd  done  quite  right,  an'  agreed  to 
play  the  game.     An'  that's  all  about  it,  an' 


THE    MONEY   MOON  299 

glad  I  am  as  it  be  off  my  mind  at  last.  An* 
now,  Miss  Anthea  mam,  seeing  you're  that  rich 
• —  wi'  Master  Georgy's  fortmi',  —  why  you  can 
pay  back  for  the  furuitur'  —  if  so  be  you're 
minded  to.  An'  I  hope  as  you  agree  wi'  me 
as  I  done  it  all  for  the  best.  Miss  Anthea?  " 

Here,  Adam  unscrewed  his  hat,  and  knocked 
out  the  wrinkles  against  his  knee,  which  done, 
he  glanced  at  Anthea: 

*'  ^\Tiy  —  what  is  it,  Miss  Anthea?  " 

**  Nothing,  Adam,  — I  haven't  slept  well, 
lately  — that's  all." 

"  Ah,  well!  —  you'll  be  all  right  again  now, 
^we  all  shall,  —  now  the  mortgage  be  paid  off, 
^shan't  we.  Miss  Anthea?  " 

''  Yes,  Adam." 

"  We  'ad  a  great  day  —  over  to  Cranbrook, 
Master  Geovgy  an'  me,  he  be  in  the  kitchen 
now,  wi'  Prudence  —  a-eating  of  bread  an' 
jam.  Good-niglit,  ]\Iiss  Anthea  mam,  if  you 
should  be  wanting  me  again  I  shall  be  in  the 
Btables,  —  Good-night,  Miss  Anthea!"  So, 
honest,  well-meaning  Adam  touched  his  fore- 
head with  a  square-ended  finger,  and  trudged 
away.  But  Anthea  sat  there,  very  still,  with 
(drooping  head,  and  vacant  eyes. 

And  so  it  was  done,  the  irrevocable  step  had 
been  taken;    she  had  given  her  promise!     So 


300  THE   MONEY  MOON 

now,  having  cliosen  her  course,  she  must  fol- 
low it  —  to  the  end. 

For,  in  Arcadia,  it  would  seem  that  a  prom- 
ise is  still  a  sacred  thing. 

Now,  in  a  while,  lifting  her  eyes,  they  en- 
countered those  of  the  smiling  Cavalier  above 
the  mantel.  Then,  as  she  looked,  she  stretched 
out  her  arms  with  a  sudden  yearning  gesture: 

**  Oh!  "  she  whispered,  "  if  I  were  only  — 
just  a  picture,  like  you.'* 


CHAPTER    XXXI 

Which,  being  the  last,  is,  very  properly,  the 
longest  in  the  hook 

In  those  benighted  days  when  men  went  abroad 
cased  in  steel,  and,  upon  very  slight  provoca- 
tion, were  wont  to  smite  each  other  with  axes, 
and  clubs,  to  buffet  and  skewer  each  otlier 
v.-ith  spears,  lances,  swords,  and  divers  other 
barbarous  engines,  yet,  in  that  dark,  and 
doughty  age,  ignorant  though  they  were  of  all 
those  smug  maxims,  and  excellent  moralities 
with  which  we  are  so  happily  blessed,  —  even 
in  that  unhallowed  day,  when  the  solemn  tread 
of  the  policeman's  foot  was  all  unknown, — 
they  had  evolved  for  themselves  a  code  of  rules 
whereby  to  govern  their  life,  and  conduct. 
Amongst  these,  it  was  tacitly  agreed  upon,  and 
understood,  that  a  spoken  promise  was  a 
pledge,  and  held  to  be  a  very  sacred  thing,  and 
he  who  broke  faith,  committed  all  the  cardinal 
sins.  Indeed  their  laws  were  very  few,  and 
simple,  easily  understood,  and  well  calculated 
to  govern  man's  conduct  to  Ids  fellow.  In  this 
day  of  ours,  ablaze  with  learning,  and  culture, 


o02  THE   MONEY   MOON 

—  veneered  with  a  fine  civilization,  our  laws 
are  complex  beyond  all  knowing  and  expres- 
sion ;    man  regulates  his  conduct  — to  them,  — 

—  and  is  as  virtuous,  and  honest  as  the  law 
compels  him  to  be. 

This  is  the  age  of  Money,  and,  therefore,  an 
irreverent  age;  it  is  also  the  age  of  Eespecta- 
bility  (with  a  very  large  E),  —  and  the  police- 
man's bludgeon. 

But  in  Arcadia  —  because  it  is  an  old-world 
place  where  life  follows  an  even,  simple  course, 
where  money  is  as  scarce  as  roguery,  the  old 
law  still  holds;  a  promise  once  given,  is  a 
sacred  obligation,  and  not  to  be  set  aside. 

Even  the  Black-bird,  who  lived  in  the  inquisi- 
tive apple  tree,  understood,  and  was  aware  of 
this,  it  had  been  bom  in  him,  and  had  grown 
with  his  feathers.  Therefore,  —  though,  to  be 
sure,  he  had  spoken  no  promise,  signed  no  bond, 
nor  affixed  his  mark  to  any  agreement,  still  he 
had,  nevertheless,  borne  in  mind  a  certain  re- 
quest preferred  to  him  when  the  day  was  very 
young.  Thus,  with  a  constancy  of  purpose 
worthy  of  all  imitation,  he  had  given  all  his 
mind,  and  thought,  to  the  composition  of  a 
song  with  a  new  theme.  He  had  applied  him- 
self to  it  most  industriously  all  day  long,  and 
now,  as  the  sun  began  to  set,  he  had  at  last 


THE    MONEY   MOON  303 

worked  it  all  out,  —  every  note,  eveiy  quaver, 
aud  trill;  and,  perched  upon  a  look-out  branch, 
he  kept  his  bold,  bright  eye  turned  toward  a 
certain  rustic  seat  hard  by,  uttering  a  melodi- 
ous note  or  two,  every  now  and  then,  from  pure 
impatience. 

And  presently,  sure  enough,  he  spied  her  for 
whom  he  waited,  —  the  tall,  long  limbed,  sup- 
ple-waisted  creature  —  whose  skin  was  pink 
aud  gold  like  the  peaches  and  apricots  in  the 
garden,  and  with  soft,  little  rings  of  hair  that 
would  have  made  such  an  excellent  lining  to 
a  nest.  From  this  strictly  utilitarian  point  of 
view  he  had  often  admired  her  hair,  (had 
this  Black-bird  follow),  as  she  passed  to  and 
fro  among  her  flowers,  or  paused  to  look  up 
at  him  and  listen  to  his  song,  or  even  some- 
times to  speak  to  him  in  her  sweet,  low 
voice. 

But  to-day  she  seemed  to  have  forgotten  him 
altogether,  she  did  not  even  glance  his  way, 
indeed  she  walked  with  bent  head,  and  seemed 
to  keep  her  eyes  always  upon  the  ground. 

Therefore  the  black-bird  hopped  a  little  fur- 
ther along  the  branch,  and  peered  over  to  look 
down  at  her  witli  first  one  round  eye,  and  tlien 
the  otlier,  as  she  sank  upon  the  seat,  near  by, 
and  loaned  her  head  wearily  against  the  great 


304  THE   MONEY   MOON 

tree,  behind.  And  thus  he  saw,  upon  the  pink 
and  gold  of  her  cheek,  something  that  shone, 
and  twinkled  like  a  drop  of  dew. 

If  the  Black-bird  wondered  at  this,  and  was 
inclined  to  be  curious,  he  sturdily  repressed  the 
weakness,  —  for  here  was  the  audience  — 
seated,  and  waiting  —  all  expectation  for  him 
to  begin. 

So,  without  more  ado,  he  settled  himself  upon 
the  bough,  lifted  his  head,  stretched  his  throat, 
and,  from  his  yellow  bill,  poured  forth  a  flood 
of  golden  melody  as  he  burst  forth  into  his 
"  Song  of  Memory." 

And  what  a  song  it  was !  —  so  full  of  pas- 
sionate entreaty,  of  tender  pleading,  of  haunt- 
ing sweetness,  that,  as  she  listened,  the  bright 
drop  quivering  upon  her  lashes,  fell  and  was 
succeeded  by  another,  and  another.  Nor  did 
she  attempt  to  check  them,  or  wipe  them  away, 
only  she  sat  and  listened  with  her  heavy  head 
pillowed  against  the  great  tree,  while  the  Black- 
bird, glancing  down  at  her  every  now  and  then 
with  critical  eye  to  mark  the  effect  of  some 
particularly  difficult  passage,  piped  surely  as 
he  had  never  done  before,  until  the  listener's 
proud  face  sank  lower  and  lower,  and  was, 
at  last,  hidden  in  her  hands.  Seeing  which,  the 
Black-bird,  like  the  true  artist  he  was,  fearing 


THE   MONEY   MOON  305 

an  anti-climax,  veiy  presently  ended  his  song 
with  a  long-drawn,  plaintive  note. 

But  Anthea  sat  there  with  her  proud  head 
bowed  low,  long  after  he  had  retired  for  the 
night.  And  the  sun  went  down,  and  the  shad- 
ows came  creeping  stealthily  about  her,  and 
the  moon  began  to  rise,  big  and  yellow,  over 
the  up-laud;  but  Anthea  still  sat  there  with 
her  head,  once  more  resting  wearily  against 
*'  King  Arthur,"  watching  the  deepening  shad- 
ows until  she  was  roused  by  Small  Porges' 
hand  upon  her's  and  his  voice  saying: 

"  Why,  —  I  do  believe  you're  crying.  Auntie 
Anthea,  an'  why  are  you  here  —  all  alone,  an* 
by  yourself?  " 

**  I  was  listening  to  the  Black-bird,  dear, — 
I  never  heard  him  sing  quite  so  —  beautifully, 
before." 

"  But  black-birds  don't  make  people  cry, — 
an'  I  know  you've  been  crying — 'cause  you 
sound  —  all  quivery,  you  know." 

**  Do  I,  Georg}'?  " 

"Yes,  —  is  it  'cause  you  feel  —  lonely?  " 

"  Yes  dear." 

**  You've  cried  an  awful  lot,  lately.  Auntie 
Anthea." 

*'  Have  I,  dear?  " 

**  Yes,  —  an*  it  —  worries  me,  you  know." 


306  THE   MONEY   MOON 

*'  I'm  afraid  I've  been  a  great  responsibility 
to  you,  Georgy  dear,"  said  she  with  a  rueful 
little  laugh. 

''  'Fraid  you  have;  but  I  don'  mind  the 
'sponsibility, — ^I'll  always  take  care  of  you, 
you  know!  "  nodded  Small  Porges,  sitting 
down,  the  better  to  get  his  arm  protectingly 
about  her,  while  Anthea  stooped  to  kiss  the 
top  of  his  curly  head.  ''  I  promised  my  Uncle 
Porges  I'd  always  take  care  of  you,  an'  so  I 
wiU!  " 

*'  Yes,  dear." 

*'  Uncle  Porges  told  me —  '^ 

''  Never  mind,  dear,  —  don'  let's  talk  of — ■ 
him." 

'*  Do  you  still  —  hate  him,  then,  Auntie 
Anthea?  " 

"Hush,  dear!  —  it's  very  wrong  to  —  hate 
people." 

' '  Yes,  a  course  it  is !  Then  —  perhaps,  if 
you  don't  hate  him  any  more  —  you  like  him 
a  bit,  —  jest  a  —  teeny  bit,  you  know?" 

'<  Why  —  there's  the  clock  striking  half -past 
eight,  Georgy!  " 

*  *  Yes,  I  hear  it,  —  but  —  do  you,  —  the  teen- 
iest bit?  Oh!  can't  you  like  him  jest  a  bit 
—  for  my  sake,  Auntie  Anthea?  I'm  always 
trying  to  please  you,  —  an'  I  found  you  the 


THE   MONEY   MOON  307 

fortune,  you  know,  so  now  I  want  you  to 
please  mo,  —  an'  tell  me  you  like  him  —  for 
my  sake." 

"But  —  Oil  Georgy  dear!  —  you  don't  un- 
derstand." 

"  —  'cause  you  see,"  Small  Porges,  con- 
tinued, "  after  all,  I  found  him  for  you  —  under 
a  hedge,  you  know —  " 

"Ah!  —  why  did  you,  Georgy  dear!  We 
were  so  happy  —  before  —  he  came  —  " 

**  But  you  couldn't  have  been,  you  know; 
you  weren't  married  —  even  then,  so  you 
couldn't  have  been  really  happy,  you  know!  " 
said  Small  Porges  shaking  his  head. 

*'  Why  Georg}'  —  what  do  you  mean?  " 

"  Well,  Uncle  Porges  told  me  that  nobody 
can  live  happy  —  ever  after,  unless  they're 
married  —  first.  So  that  was  why  I  'ranged 
for  liim  to  many  you,  so  you  could  both  be 
happy,  an'  all  revelry  an'  joy,  —  like  the  fairy 
tale,  you  know.'* 

'*  But,  you  see,  we  aren't  in  a  fairy  tale, 
dear,  so  I'm  afraid  we  must  make  the  best  of 
things  as  they  are !  "  and  here  she  sighed  again, 
and  rose.  "  Come,  Georg}',  it's  much  later 
than  I  thought,  and  quite  time  you  were  in 
bed,  dear." 

"  All   right.  Auntie  Anthea,  —  only  —  don't 


308  THE   MONEY   MOON 

you  think  it's  jest  a  bit  —  cruel  to  send  a  boy 
to  bed  so  very  early,  an'  when  the  moon's  so 
big,  an'  everything  looks  so  —  frightfully  fine? 
'sides —  " 

"  Well,  what  now?  "  she  asked,  a  little 
wearily  as,  obedient  to  his  pleading  gesture, 
she  sat  down  again. 

"  Why,  you  haven't  answered  my  question 
yet,  you  know." 

*'  What  question?  "  said  she,  not  looking  at 
him. 

^'  'Bout  my  —  Uncle  Porges." 

*'  But  Georgy  — I— " 

*'  You  do  like  him  —  jest  a  bit  —  don't  you? 
■ — please?  "  Small  Porges  was  standing  be- 
fore her  as  he  waited  for  her  answer,  but  now, 
seeing  how  she  hesitated,  and  avoided  his  eyes, 
he  put  one  small  hand  beneath  the  dimple  in 
her  chin,  so  that  she  was  forced  to  look  at  him. 

"  You  do,  please,  —  don't  you?  "  he  pleaded. 

Anthea  hesitated;  but,  after  all,  —  He  was 
gone,  and  nobody  could  hear;  and  Small 
Porges  was  so  very  small;  and  who  could  re- 
sist the  entreaty  in  his  big,  wistful  eyes?  sure- 
ly not  Anthea.  Therefore,  with  a  sudden  ges- 
ture of  abandonment,  she  leaned  forward  in 
his  embrace,  and  rested  her  weary  head  against 
his  manlv,  small  shoulder: 


THE    MONEY   MOON  309 

**  Yes!  "  she  whispered. 

"  Jest  as  much  as  you  like  —  Mr.  Cassilis?  " 
he  whispered  back. 

♦'  Yes!  " 

**  A  —  bit  more  —  jest  a  teeuy  bit  more?  " 

*'  Yes!  " 

"A  —  lot  more,  —  lots  an'  lots,  —  oceans 
more?  " 

*'  Yes!  " 

The  word  was  spoken,  and,  having  uttered 
it,  Anthea  grew  suddenly  hot  with  shame,  and 
mightily  angry  with  herself,  and  would, 
straightway,  have  given  the  world  to  have  it 
unsaid;  the  more  so,  as  she  felt  Small  Porges' 
clasp  tighten  joyfully,  and,  looking  up,  fancied 
she  read  something  like  triumph  in  his  look. 

She  drew  away  from  him,  rather  hastily,  and 
rose  to  her  feet. 

**  Come!  "  said  she,  speaking  now  in  a  vastly 
difTerent  tone,  **  it  must  be  getting  yery 
late—" 

*'  Yes,  I  s 'pocks  it'll  soon  be  nine  o'clock, 
now!  "  he  nodded. 

**  Then  you  ought  to  be  in  bed,  fast  asleep 
instead  of  talking  such  —  nonsense,  out  here. 
So  —  come  along  —  at  once,  sir!  " 

"  But,  can't  I  stay  up  —  jest  a  little  while? 
You  see —  " 


310  THE   MONEY.  MOON 

''  No!  " 

"  You  see,  it's  such  a  —  magnif'cent  night! 
It  feels  as  though  —  things  might  happen !  ' ' 

'^  Don't  be  so  silly!  " 
.    '^  Well,  but  it  does,  you  know." 

' '  What  do  you  mean  —  what  things !  ' ' 
■   ' '  Well,  it  feels  —  gnom-y,  to  me.     I  s  'pecks 
there's  lots    of   elves    about  —  hidden   in   the 
shadows,  you  know,  an'  peeping  at  us." 

''There  aren't  any  elves,  —  or  gnomes," 
said  Anthea  petulantly,  for  she  was  still  fu- 
riously angry  with  herself. 

'  *  But  my  Uncle  Porges  told  me  —  ' ' 

*'  Oh!  "  cried  Anthea,  stamping  her  foot  sud- 
denly, ''  can't  you  talk  of  anyone,  or  anything 
but  —  him?  I'm  tired  to  death  of  him  and 
his  very  name!  " 

''  But  I  thought  you  liked  him  —  an  awful 
lot,  an'—  " 

''Well,  I  don't!  " 

"  But,  you  said —  " 

"  Never  mind  what  I  said!  It's  time  you 
were  in  bed  asleep,  —  so  come  along  —  at  once, 
sir!" 

So  they  went  on  through  the  orchard  to- 
gether, very  silently,  for  Small  Porges  was 
inclined  to  be  indignant,  but  much  more  inclined 
to  be  hurt.     Thus,  they  had  not  gone  so  very 


THE   MONEY   MOON  311 

far,  wlieu  he  spoke,  in  a  voice  that  he  would 
have  described  as  —  quivery. 

"  Dou't  you  think  that  you're  —  just  the 
teeniest  bit  —  cruel  to  me.  Auntie  Antheal  " 
he  enquired  wistfully,  "  after  I  prayed  an' 
prayed  till  I  found  a  fortune  for  you!  —  don't 
you,  please?  "  Surely  Anthca  was  a  creature 
of  moods,  to-night,  for,  even  while  he  spoke, 
she  stopped,  and  turned,  and  fell  on  her  knees^ 
and  caught  him  in  her  arms,  kissing  him  many 
times: 

"Yes,  —  yes,  dear,  I'm  hateful  to  you, — 
horrid  to  you !  But  I  don't  mean  to  be.  There ! 
—  forgive  me!  " 

"Oh!  —  it's  all  right  again,  now.  Auntie 
Anthea,  thank  you.  I  only  thought  you  were 
jest  a  bit  —  hard,  'cause  it  is  such  a  —  mag- 
nif'cent  night,  isn't  it?  " 

**  Yes  dear;  and  perhajTs  there  are  gnomes, 
and  pixies  about.  Anyhow,  we  can  pretend 
there  are,  if  you  like,  as  we  used  to —  " 

**  Oh  will  you?  that  would  be  fine!  Tlien, 
please,  may  I  go  witli  you  —  as  far  as  the 
brook?  AVe'll  wander,  you  know,  —  I've  never 
wandered  witli  you  in  the  moonlight,  —  an'  I 
do  love  to  hear  the  brook  talking  to  itself,  — 
80  —  will  you  wander  —  jest  this  once?" 

"  Well,"  said  -tVnthea,  hesitating,  "  it's  very 
late!—" 


312  THE   MONEY   MOON 

* '  Nearly  nine  o  'clock,  yes !  But  Oh !  — ■ 
please  don't  forget  that  I  found  a  fortune  for 
you —  " 

"  Very  well,"  she  smiled,  '^  just  this  once." 

Now  as  they  went  together,  hand  in  hand 
through  the  moonlight,  Small  Porges  talked 
very  fast,  and  very  much  at  random,  while  his 
eyes,  bright,  and  eager,  glanced  expectantly 
towards  every  patch  of  shadow,  —  doubtless  in 
search  of  gnomes,  and  pixies. 

But  Anthea  saw  nothing  of  this,  heard  noth- 
ing of  the  suppressed  excitement  in  his  voice, 
for  she  was  thinking  that  by  now,  Mr.  Cassilis 
had  read  her  letter,  —  that  he  might,  even  then, 
be  on  his  way  to  Dapplemere.  She  even  fan- 
cied, once  or  twice,  that  she  could  hear  the 
gallop  of  his  horse's  hoofs.  And,  when  he 
came,  he  would  want  to  —  kiss  her! 

''  Why  do  you  shiver  so,  Auntie  Anthea,  are 
you  cold?  " 

''  No,  dear." 

*'  Well,  then,  why  are  you  so  quiet  to  me, 
—  I've  asked  you  a  question  —  three  times." 

**  Have  you  dear?  I  —  I  was  thinking;  what 
was  the  question?  " 

"  I  was  asking  you  if  you  would  be  awful 
frightened  s 'posing  we  did  find  a  pixie  —  or  a 
gnome,  in  the  shadows;    an'  would  you  be  so 


THE    MONEY   MOON  313 

very  awfully  frightened  if  a  gnome  —  a  great, 
big  one,  you  know,  —  came  jumping  out  an' 
—  ran  off  with  you,  —  should  you?  " 

"No!"  said  Anthea,  with  another  shiver, 
^*  No,  dear,  —  I  think  I  should  be  —  rather 
•glad  of  it!  " 

**  Should  you,  Auntie?  I'm  —  so  awful  glad 
you  wouldn't  be  frightened.  A  course,  I  don't 
s'pose  there  are  gnomes  —  I  mean  great,  big 
ones,  —  really,  you  know,  —  but  there  might 
be,  on  a  magnif'cent  night,  like  this.  If  you 
shiver  again  Auntie  you'll  have  to  take  my 
coat!  " 

"  I  thought  I  heard  a  horse  galloping  — 
hush!  " 

They  had  reached  the  stile,  by  now,  the  stile 
^•ith  the  crooked,  lurking  nail,  and  she  leaned 
there,  a  while,  to  listen.  "I'm  sure  I  heard 
something,  —  away  there  —  on  the  road  !  " 

"I  don't!"  said  Small  Porgos,  stoutly, — 
**  80  take  my  hand,  please,  an'  let  me  'sist  you 
over  the  stile." 

So  they  crossed  the  stile,  and,  presently, 
came  to  the  brook  that  was  the  most  imper- 
tinent brook  in  the  world.  And  here,  upon 
the  little  rustic  bridge,  they  stopped  to  look 
down  at  tlie  sparkle  of  the  water,  and  to  listen 
to  its  merry  voice. 


314  THE   MONEY  MOON 

Yes,  indeed  to-night  it  was  as  impertinent  as 
ever,  laughing,  and  chuckling  to  itself  among 
the  hollows,  and  whispering  scandalously  in 
the  shadows.  It  seemed  to  Anthea  that  it  was 
laughing  at  her,  —  mocking,  and  taunting  her 
with  — the  future.  And  now,  amid  the  laugh- 
ter, were  sobs,  and  tearful  murmurs,  and  now, 
again,  it  seemed  to  be  the  prophetic  voice  of 
old  Nannie: 

''  '  By  force  ye  shall  be  wooed  and  by  force 
ye  shall  be  wed,  and  there  is  no  man  strong 
enough  to  do  it,  but  him  as  bears  the  Tiger 
Mark  upon  him!  '  " 

The  "  Tiger  Mark!  "  Alas!  how  very  far 
from  the  truth  were  poor,  old  Nannie's  dreams, 
after  all,  the  dreams  which  Anthea  had  very 
nearly  believed  in  —  once  or  twice.  How  fool- 
ish it  had  all  been!    And  yet  even  now  — 

Anthea  had  been  leaning  over  the  gurgling 
waters  while  all  this  passed  through  her  mind 
but  now,  —  she  started  at  the  sound  of  a  heavy 
foot-fall  on  the  planking  of  the  bridge,  behind 
her,  and  —  in  that  same  instant,  she  was  en- 
circled by  a  powerful  arm,  caught  up  in  a 
strong  embrace,  —  swung  from  her  feet,  and 
borne  away  through  the  shadows  of  the  little 
copse. 

It  was  very  dark  in  the  wood,  but  she  knew, 


THE   MONEY   MOON  315 

instinctively,  whose  arms  these  were  that  held 
her  so  close,  and  carried  her  so  easily  —  away 
through  the  shadows  of  the  wood,  —  away  from 
the  haunting,  hopeless  dread  of  the  future 
from  which  there  had  seemed  no  chance,  or 
hope  of  escape. 

And,  knowing  all  this,  she  made  no  struggle, 
and  uttered  no  word.  And  now  the  trees 
thinned  out,  and,  from  under  her  lashes  she 
saw  the  face  above  her;  the  thick,  black  brows 
drawn  together,  —  the  close  set  of  the  lips,  — 
the  grim  prominence  of  the  strong,  square  chin. 

And  now,  they  were  in  the  road ;  and  now  he 
had  lifted  her  into  an  automobile,  had  sprung 
in  beside  her,  and  —  they  were  off,  gliding 
swift,  and  ever  swifter,  under  the  shadows  of 
the  trees. 

And  still  neither  spoke,  nor  looked  at  each 
other ;  only  she  leaned  away  from  him,  against 
t\|e  cushions,  while  he  kept  his  frowning  eyes 
fixed  upon  the  road  a-head ;  and  ever  the  great 
car  flew  onward  faster,  and  faster;  yet  not 
80  fast  as  the  beating  of  her  heart,  wherein 
ehame,  and  anger,  and  fear,  and  —  another  feel- 
ing strove  and  fought  for  mastery. 

But  at  last,  finding  him  so  silent,  and  impas- 
sive, she  must  needs  steal  a  look  at  him,  be- 
neath her  lashes. 


; 


316  THE   MONEY   MOON 

He  wore  no  hat,  and  as  she  looked  upon  him, 
—  with  his  yellow  hair,  his  length  of  limb,  and 
his  massive  shoulders,  he  might  have  been  some 
fierce  Viking,  and  she,  his  captive,  taken  by 
strength  of  arm  —  borne  away  by  force.  —  By 
force ! 

And,  hereupon,  as  the  car  hummed  over  the 
smooth  road,  it  seemed  to  find  a  voice,  —  a 
subtle,  mocking  voice,  very  like  the  voice  of 
the  brook,  —  that  murmured  to  her  over  and 
over  again: 

*'  By  force  ye  shall  be  wooed,  and  by  force 
ye  shall  be  wed." 

The  very  trees  whispered  it  as  they  passed, 
and  her  heart  throbbed  in  time  to  it: 

'^  By  force  ye  shall  be  wooed,  and  by  force 
ye  shall  be  wed !  ' '  So,  she  leaned  as  far  from 
him  as  she  might,  watching  him  with  fright- 
ened eyes  while  he  frowned  ever  upon  the  road 
in  front,  and  the  car  rocked,  and  swayed  with 
their  going,  as  they  whirled  onward  through 
moonlight  and  through  shadow,  faster,  and 
faster,  —  yet  not  so  fast  as  the  beating  of  her 
heart  wherein  was  fear,  and  shame,  and  anger, 
and  —  another  feeling,  but  greatest  of  all  now, 
was  fear.  Could  this  be  the  placid,  soft-spoken 
gentleman  she  had  known,  —  this  man,  with  the 
implacable    eyes,    and    the    brutal    jaw,    who 


THE    MONEY   MOON  317 

neither  spoke  to,  nor  looked  at  her,  but  fro-vvned 
always  at  the  road  in  front. 

And  so,  the  fear  grevr  and  grew  within  her, 
—  fear  of  the  man  whom  she  knew,  —  and  knew 
not  at  all.  She  clasped  her  hands  nervously 
together,  watching  him  with  dilating  eyes  as 
the  car  slowed  down,  —  for  the  road  made  a 
sudden  turn,  hereabouts. 

And  still  he  neither  looked  at,  nor  spoke  to 
her;  and  therefore,  because  she  could  bear  the 
silence  no  longer,  she  spoke  —  in  a  voice  that 
sounded  strangely  faint,  and  far-away,  and 
that  shook  and  trembled  in  spite  of  her. 

**  TMiere  are  you  —  taking  me?  " 

"  To  be  married!  "  he  answered,  never  look- 
ing at  her. 

' '  You  —  wouldn  't  —  dare !  ' ' 

"  Wait  and  see!  "  he  nodded. 

"Oh!  —  but  what  do  —  you  mean? '*  The 
fear  in  hor  voice  was  more  manifest  than 
ever. 

"  I  mean  that  you  are  mine,  —  you  always 
were,  you  always  must  and  shall  be.  So,  I'm 
going  to  marry  you  —  in  about  lialf-an-hour, 
by  special  license." 

Still  he  did  not  even  glance  towards  her,  and 
she  looked  away  over  the  country  side  all 
lonely  and  desolate  under  the  moon. 


318  THE   MONEY   MOON 

* '  I  want  you,  you  see, ' '  lie  went  on,  ' '  I  want 
you  more  than  I  ever  wanted  anything  in  this 
world.  I  need  you,  because  without  you  my 
life  will  be  utterly  purposeless,  and  empty.  So 
I  have  taken  you  —  because  you  are  mine,  I 
know  it,  —  Ah  yes!  and,  deep  down  in  your 
woman's  heart,  you  know  it  too.  And  so,  I 
am  going  to  marry  you,  —  yes  I  am,  unless  —  ' ' 
and  here,  he  brought  the  car  to  a  standstill, 
and  turning,  looked  at  her  for  the  first ' 
time. 

And  now,  before  the  look  in  his  eyes,  her  own 
wavered,  and  fell,  lest  he  should  read  within 
them  that  which  she  would  fain  hide  from  him, 
—  and  which  she  knew  they  must  reveal,  — ' 
that  which  was  neither  shame,  nor  anger,  nor 
fear,  but  the  other  feeling  for  which  she  dared 
find  no  name.  And  thus,  for  a  long  moment, 
there  was  silence. 

At  last  she  spoke,  though  with  her  eyes  still 
hidden : 

**  Unless?  "  she  repeated  breathlessly. 

*'  Anthea,  —  look  at  me!" 

But  Anthea  only  drooped  her  head  the  lower ; 
wherefore,  he  leaned  forward,  and  —  even  as 
Small  Porges  had  done,  —  set  his  hand  beneath 
the  dimple  in  her  chin,  and  lifted  the  proud, 
un- willing  face: 


THE   MONEY   MOON  319 

*' Antbea,  —  look  at  me!" 

And  now,  what  could  Antliea  do  but  obey? 

*'  Unless,"  said  he,  as  her  glance,  at  last, 
met  his,  ''unless  you  can  tell  me  —  now,  as 
your  eyes  look  into  mine,  —  that  you  love 
Cassilis.  Tell  me  that,  and  I  will  take  you 
back,  this  very  instant;  and  never  trouble  you 
again.  But,  unless  you  do  tell  me  that,  why 
then  —  your  Pride  shall  not  blast  two  lives, 
if  I  can  help  it.     Now  speak !  ' ' 

But  Anthea  was  silent,  also,  she  would  have 
turned  aside  from  his  searching  look,  but  that 
his  arms  were  about  her,  strong,  and  compel- 
ling. So,  needs  must  she  suffer  him  to  look 
down  into  her  very  heart,  for  it  seemed  to  her 
that,  in  that  moment,  he  had  rent  away  every 
stitch,  and  shred  of  Pride's  enfolding  mantle, 
and  that  he  saw  the  truth,  at  last. 

But,  if  he  had,  he  gave  no  sign,  only  he  turned 
and  set  the  c^r  humming  upon  its  way,  once 
more. 

On  they  went  tlirough  the  midsummer  night, 
up  hill  and  down  hill,  by  cross-road  and  bye- 
lane,  until,  as  they  climbed  a  long  ascent,  they 
behold  a  tall  figure  standing  upon  the  top  of 
the  hill,  in  the  attitude  of  one  who  waits;  and 
who,  spying  them,  immediately  raised  a  very 
stiff  left  arm,  whereupon  this  figure  was  joined 


320  THE   MONEY   MOON 

by  another.  Now  as  the  car  drew  nearer, 
Anthea,  with  a  thrill  of  pleasure,  recognized 
the  Sergeant  standing  very  much  as  though  he 
were  on  parade,  and  with  honest-faced  Peter- 
day  beside  him,  who  stumped  joyfully  forward, 
and,  —  with  a  bob  of  his  head,  and  a  scrape 
of  his  wooden  leg,  —  held  out  his  hand  to 
her. 

Like  one  in  a  dream  she  took  the  sailor's 
hand  to  step  from  the  car,  and  like  one  in  a 
dream,  she  walked  on  between  the  soldier  and 
the  sailor,  who  now  reached  out  to  her,  each, 
a  hand  equally  big  and  equally  gentle,  to  aid 
her  up  certain  crumbling,  and  time-worn  steps. 
On  they  went  together  until  they  were  come  to 
a  place  of  whispering  echoes,  where  lights 
burned,  few,  and  dim. 

And  here,  still  as  one  in  a  dream,  she  spoke 
those  words  which  gave  her  life,  henceforth, 
into  the  keeping  of  him  who  stood  beside  her, 
• — whose  strong  hand  trembled  as  he  set  upon 
her  finger,  that  which  is  an  emblem  of  eternity. 

Like  one  in  a  dream,  she  took  the  pen,  and 
signed  her  name,  obediently,  where  they  di- 
rected. And  yet,  —  could  this  really  be  her- 
self,— ^this   silent,   submissive   creature? 

And  now,  they  were  out  upon  the  moon-lit 
road  again,  seated  in  the  car,  while  Peterday, 


THE   MONEY   MOON  321 

his  hat  iu  his  haud,  was  speaking  to  her.  And 
yet,  —  was  it  to   her? 

"  Mrs.  Belloo,  mam,"  he  was  saj'ing,  *'  on 
this  here  monumeutous  occasion —  " 

"  Monmiientous  is  the  only  word  for  it, 
Peterday!  "  nodded  the  Sergeant. 

"  On  this  here  monumentous  occasion,  Mrs. 
Belloo,"  the  sailor  proceeded,  "  my  shipmate, 
Dick,  and  me,  mam,  —  respectfully  beg  the 
favour  of  saluting  the  bride;  —  Mrs.  Belloo, 
by  your  leave  —  here's  health,  and  happiness, 
mam!  "  And,  hereupon,  the  old  sailor  kissed 
her,  right  heartily.  Which  done,  he  made  way 
for  the  Sergeant  who,  after  a  moment's  hesi- 
tation, followed  suit. 

**  A  fair  wind,  and  prosperous!"  cried 
Peterday,  flourisliing  his  hat. 

''And  God  —  bless  you  —  both!"  said  the 
Sergeant  as  the  car  shot  away. 

So,  it  was  done !  —  the  irrevocable  step  was 
taken!  Her  life  and  future  had  passed  for 
ever  into  the  keeping  of  him  who  sat  so  silent 
beside  her,  who  neither  spoke,  nor  looked  at 
her,  but  frowned  ever  at  the  road  before 
him. 

On  sped  the  car,  faster,  and  faster,  —  yet 
not  80  fast  as  the  beating  of  her  heart  wherein 
there  was  yet  something  of  fear,  and  shame, 


322  THE   MONEY   MOON 

—  but  greatest  of  all  was  tliat  other  omoHoa^ 
and  the  name  of  it  was  —  Joy. 

Now,  presently,  the  car  slowed  down,  and 
■^'he  spoke  to  her,  though  without  turning  his 
head.    And  yet,  something  in  his  voice  thrilled 
through  her  strangely. 

''Look  Anthea,  —  the  moon  is  at  the  full, 
to-night. ' ' 

*'  Yes!  "  she  answered. 

"  And  Happiness  shall  come  riding  astride 
the  full  moon!  "  he  quoted,     "  Old  Nannie  is 
rather  a  wonderful  old  witch,  after  all,  isn't 
she?  " 
,     ''  Yes.'^ 

''And  then  there  is  —  our  nephew,  —  my 
dear,  little  Porges!  But  for  him,  Happiness 
would  have  been  a  stranger  to  me  all  my  days, 
Anthea.  He  dreamed  that  the  Money  Moon 
spoke  to  him,  and  —  but  he  shall  tell  you  of 
that,  for  himself." 

But  Anthea  noticed  that  he  spoke  without 
once  looking  at  her;  indeed  it  seemed  that  he 
avoided  glancing  towards  her,  of  set  design, 
and  purpose ;  and  his  deep  voice  quivered,  now 
and  then,  in  a  way  she  had  never  heard  before. 
Therefore,  her  heart  throbbed  the  faster,  and 
she  kept  her  gaze  bent  downward,  and  thus, 
chancing  to  see  the  shimmer  of  that  which  was 


THE   MONEY   MOON  323 

upon  her  finger,  she  blushed,  and  hid  it  in  a 
fold  of  her  gown. 

"  Anthea." 

**Yes?" 

"  You  have  no  regrets,  —  have  yout  " 

**  No,"  she  whispered. 

*'  We  shall  soon  be  —  home,  now!  " 

"  Yes." 

* '  And  are  you  —  mine  —  for  ever,  and  al- 
ways? Anthea,  you  —  aren't  —  afraid  of  me 
any  more,  are  you?  " 

'^  No." 

"  Nor  ever  will  be?  " 

**  Nor  —  ever  will  be." 

Now  as  the  car  swept  round  a  bend,  behold 
yet  two  other  figures  standing  beside  the  way. 

"  Yo  ho.  Captain!  "  cried  a  voice,  *'  Oh  — 
please  heave  to.  Uncle  Porges!  " 

And,  forth  to  meet  them,  came  Small  Porges, 
running.  Yet  remembering  Miss  Priscilla,  tap- 
ping along  behind  him,  he  must  needs  turn 
back,  —  to  give  her  his  hand  like  the  kindly, 
small  gentleman  that  he  was. 

And  now  —  Miss  Priscilla  had  Anthea  in  her 
arms,  and  thoy  were  kissing  eacli  other,  and 
murmuring  over  each  oilier,  as  loving  women 
will,  while  Small  Porges  stared  at  the  car,  and 
all  things  pertaining  thereto,  more  especially. 


324  THE   MONEY   MOON 

tlie  glaring  head-lights,  with  great  wondering 
eyes. 

At  length,  having  seen  Anthea,  and  Miss 
Priscilla  safely  stowed,  he  clambered  up  beside 
Bellew,  and  gave  him  the  word  to  proceed. 
What  pen  could  describe  his  ecstatic  delight  as, 
he  sat  there,  with  one  hand  hooked  into  the 
pocket  of  Uncle  Porges'  coat,  and  with  the 
cool  night  wind  whistling  through  his  curls. 
So  great  was  it,  indeed,  that  Bellew  was  con- 
strained to  turn  aside,  and  make  a  wide  detour, 
purely  for  the  sake  of  the  radiant  joy  in  Small 
Porges'  eager  face. 

When,  at  last,  they  came  within  sight  of 
Dapplemere,  and  the  great  machine  crept  up 
the  rutted,  grassy  lane.  Small  Porges  sighed, 
and  spoke: 

"  Auntie  Anthea,"  said  he,  *'  are  you  sure 
that  you  are  married  —  nice  an'  —  tight,  you 
know?  " 

"  Yes,  dear,"  she  answered,  '*  why  —  yes, 
Greorgy. ' ' 

"  But  you  don't  look  a  bit  diff'rent,  you 
know,  —  either  of  you.  Are  you  quite  —  sure  ? 
'cause  I  shouldn't  like  you  to  disappoint  me, 
—  after  all." 

*'  Never  fear,  my  Porges,"  said  Bellew,  "  I 
made  quite  sure  of  it  while  I  had  the  chance, 


THE   MONEY   MOON  325 

—  look!  "  As  he  spoke,  he  took  Anthea's  left 
hand,  drawing  it  out  into  the  moonlight,  so 
that  Small  Porges  could  see  the  shining  ring 
upon  her  finger. 

"  Oh!  "  said  he,  nodding  his  head,  "  then 
that  makes  it  all  right  I  s'pose.    An'  you  aren't 
angry  with  me  'cause  I  let  a  great,  big  gnome 
come  an'  carry  you  off,  are  you,  Auntie  An-' 
thea?  " 

''  No,  dear.'* 

"Why  then,  everything's  quite  —  magnif'- 
cent,  isn't  it?  An'  now  we're  going  to  live 
happy  ever  after,  all  of  us,  an'  Uncle  Forges 
is  going  to  take  us  to  sail  the  oceans  in  his 
ship,  —  he's  got  a  ship  that  all  belongs  to  his 
very  own  self,  you  know.  Auntie  Anthoa,  —  so 
all  will  be  revelry  an'  joy  —  just  like  the  fairy 
tale,  after  all." 

And  so,  at  last,  they  came  to  the  door  of  the 
ancient  House  of  Dapplemere.  "Whereupon, 
very  suddenly,  Adam  appeared,  bare-armed 
from  the  stables,  who,  looking  from  Bellew's 
radiant  face  to  Miss  Anthea's  shy  eyes,  threw 
back  bis  head,  vented  his  great  laugh,  and  was 
immediately  solemn  again. 

**  Miss  Anthea,"  said  he,  wringing  and  twifit- 
ing  at  his  hat,  **  or  —  I  think  I  should  say, — 
Mrs.  Bolloo  mam,  —  there  ain't  no  word  for 


326  THE   MONEY  MOON 

it!  least-ways  not  as  I  know  on,  nohow.  No 
words  be  strong  enough  to  tell  the  J-O-Y  — 
j'y,  mam,  as  fills  us  —  one  an'  all."  Here,  he 
waved  his  hand  to  where  stood  the  comely  Pru- 
dence with  the  two  rosy-cheeked  maids  peeping 
over  her  buxom  shoulders. 

"■  Only,"  pursued  Adam,  *'  I  be  glad  —  ah! 
mortal  glad,  I  be,  —  as  'tis  you,  Mr.  Belloo 
sir.  There  ain't  a  man  in  all  the  world,  —  or 
—  as  you  might  say,  —  uni-verse,  as  is  so 
proper  as  you  to  be  the  husband  to  our  Miss 
Anthea  —  as  was,  —  not  nohow,  Mr.  Belloo  sir. 
I  wish  you  j'y,  a  j'y  as  shall  grow  wi'  the  years, 
an'  abide  wi'  you  always,  —  both  on  ye." 

''  That  is  a  very  excellent  thought  Adam!  " 
said  Bellew, ' '  and  I  think  I  should  like  to  shake 
hands  on  it."    Which  they  did,  forthwith. 

"■  An'  now,  Mrs.  Belloo  mam,"  Adam  con- 
cluded, ''  wi'  your  kind  permission,  I'll  step 
into  the  kitchen,  an'  drink  a  glass  o'  Prue's 
ale  —  to  your  'ealth,  and  'appiness.  If  I  stay 
here  any  longer  I  won't  say  but  what  I  shall 
burst  out  a-singing  in  your  very  face,  mam,  for 
I  do  be  that  'appy-'earted,  —  Lord!  " 

With  which  exclamation,  Adam  laughed 
again,  and  turning  about,  strode  away  to  the 
kitchen  with  Prudence  and  the  rosy-cheeked 
maids,  laughing  as  he  went. 


THE   MONEY   MOON  327 

"Oh  my  dears!  "  said  little  Miss  Priscilla, 
"I've  hoped  for  this,  —  prayed  for  it,  —  be- 
cause I  believe  he  is  —  worthy  of  you,  Authea, 
and  because  you  have  both  loved  each  other, 
from  the  very  beginning;  oh  dear  me;  yes  you 
have !  And  so,  my  dears,  —  your  happiness  is 
my  happiness  and  —  Oh,  goodness  me !  here 
I  stand  talking  sentimental  nonsense  while  our 
Small  Forges  is  simply  dropping  asleep  as  he 
stands." 

"  'Fraid  I  am  a  bit  tired,"  Small  Forges  ad- 
mitted, "  but  it's  been  a  magnif'cent  night. 
An'  I  think,  Uncle  Forges,  when  we  sail  away 
in  your  ship,  I  think,  I'd  like  to  sail  round  the 
Horn  first  'cause  they  say  it's  always  blowing, 
you  know,  and  I  should  love  to  hear  it  blow. 
An'  now  —  Good-night!  " 

"  Wait  a  minute,  my  Forges,  just  tell  us 
what  it  was  the  Money  Moon  said  to  you,  last 
night,  will  you?  " 

"  Well,"  said  Small  Forges,  shaking  his 
head,  and  smiling,  a  slow,  sly  smile,  "  I  don't 
s'pose  we'd  better  talk  about  it,  Uncle  Forges, 
'cause,  you  see,  it  was  such  a  very  great  secret; 
an  'sides,  —  I'm  awful  sleepy,  you  know !  "  So 
saying,  he  nodded  slumberously,  kissed  Anthea 
eleepily,  and,  giving  Miss  Friscilla  his  hand, 
went  drowsily  into  the  house. 


328  THE   MONEY   MOON 

But,  as  for  Bellew  it  seemed  to  him  that  this 
was  the  hour  for  which  he  had  lived  all  his 
life,  and,  though  he  spoke  nothing  of  this 
thought,  yet  Anthea  knew  it,  instinctively, — 
as  she  knew  why  he  had  avoided  looking  at 
her  hitherto,  and  what  had  caused  the  tremour 
in  his  voice,  despite  his  iron  self-control;  and, 
therefore,  now  that  they  were  alone,  she  spoke 
hurriedly,  and  at  random: 

*  *  What  —  did  he  —  Georgy  mean  by  —  your 
ship?  " 

"  Why,  I  promised  to  take  him  a  cruise  in 
the  yacht  —  if  you  cared  to  come,  Anthea." 

' '  Yacht !  ' '  she  repeated,  '  *  are  you  so  dread- 
fully rich?  " 

''I'm  afraid  we  are,"  he  nodded,  "  but,  at 
least,  it  has  the  advantage  of  being  better  than 
if  we  were  —  dreadfully  poor,  hasn't  it?  " 

Now,  in  the  midst  of  the  garden  there  was 
an  old  sun-dial  worn  by  time,  and  weather,  and 
it  chanced  that  they  came,  and  leaned  there, 
side  by  side.  And,  looking  down  upon  the  dial, 
Bellew  saw  certain  characters  graven  thereon 
in  the  form  of  a  poesy. 

''  What  does  it  say,  here,  Anthea?  "he  asked. 
But  Anthea  shook  her  head : 

*'  That,  you  must  read  for  yourself!  "  she 
said,  not  looking  at  him. 


THE    MONEY   MOON  329 

So,  he  took  her  haud  iu  Ids,  and,  with  her 
slender  finger,  spelled  out  this  motto. 

Time,  and  youthe  do  flee  awaie 
Love,  Oh!  Love  then,  whiles  ye  may. 

"  Anthea!  "  said  he,  and  again  she  heard 
the  tremour  in  his  voice,  "  you  have  been  my 
wife  nearly  three  quarters  of  an  hour,  and 
all  that  time  I  haven't  dared  to  look  at  you, 
because  if  I  had,  I  must  have  —  kissed  you,  and 
I  meant  to  wait  —  until  your  own  good  time. 
But  Anthea,  you  have  never  yet  told  me  that 
you  —  love  me  —  Anthea  ?  ' ' 

She  did  not  speak,  or  move,  indeed,  she  was 
so  very  still  tliat  he  needs  must  bend  down  to 
see  her  face.  Then,  all  at  once,  her  lashes  were 
lifted,  her  eyes  looked  up  into  his  —  deep  and 
dark  with  passionate  tenderness. 

**  Aunt  Priscilla  —  was  quite  —  right,"  she 
said,  speaking  in  her  low,  thrilling  voice,  "  I 
have  loved  you  —  from  the  —  very  beginning, 
I  think!  "  And,  with  a  soft,  murmurous  sigh, 
she  gave  herself  into  his  embrace. 

Now,  far  away  across  the  meadow,  Adam 
was  plodding  his  homeward  way,  and,  as  he 
trudged,  he  sang  to  himself  in  a  harsh,  but  not 
unmusical  voice,  and  the  words  of  his  song 
were  tliese: 


330  THE   MONEY   MOON 

"  When  I  am  dead,  diddle  diddle,  as  well  may  hap 
You  '11  bury  me,  diddle  diddle,  under  the  tap, 
Under  the  tap,  diddle  diddle,  I  '11  tell  you  why, 
That  I  may  drink,  diddle  diddle,  when  I  am  dry." 


THE    END 


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CENTRAL  UNIVERSITY  LIBRARY 

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DATE  DUE 


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